Kadence
by Bailey Dourdan
Summary: After one big misadventure Kadence found herself caught in Wonderland, but beyond its quirky allure, there are lies she and others are being fed. When the deceit hits the fan she must make a choice where she stands. Hatter/OC Better description Inside
1. A Pigeon's Warning

**Well hello dear **

**reader, my birthday today has spurred on a...birthday resolution "So to Speak" in which I finally put this upon Fanfiction so it's not just taking up space on my computer, so here I am and this is what I am doing. I thank you for considering clicking my story despite the awful summary. The Full summary is= Kadence Mcgill is a quick witted seventeen year old who's fidelity always lay within herself, but a series of complications and one huge misadventure forces her to find her loyalties between two sets of people, the outlanders and the White Monarchy's Loyalists. With ties to Stayne and his rebellion accidently finds friendship in Hatter and Mirana, but without true conformation of the truth she finds herself caught in a web of her own deceit. Ultimately her final choice of sides impacts and jeprodizes the lives of every one she cares for and could send Underland into chaos. Hatter/OC with vague, VAGUE insinuations of Alice/Hatter, but may I repeat VAGUE, but Alice does get involved in the story line down the road. (The outlanders are all the people who have ever been banished, by the way... it will make more sense when I post the other chapters)**

**One last note before I start rambling is that my story will be about as fluffy as a coyote with mange, which is furry and what not in spots and in others it's just, well, fleshy. Which is my poor metaphor for this will not be "Fluffy." BUT DO NOT LET THIS TURN YOU OFF READING THIS FOR THERE _IS_ ROMANCE, eventually.**

**I choose a song for each chapter which I subsequently have chosen Foundations-Kate Nash, but one could also listen to Kiss with a Fist-Florence and the Machine. I personally found Kate Nash's song to works better, despite that fact it works better for a relationship kind of situation and this is not one, but whatever. You don't have to listen to the songs I post, but thhey are more or less suggested if you want to see what I was seeing. Yep, thanks, read and review. **

**(I do not own the main sub plot and original characters from both the book and movie which belongs to Tim Burton and Lewis Carroll. The songs I chose for the chapters belong to the musical artists. The characters I have produced and the plot I have created belong to me.)**

**CHAPTER ONE: A PIGEON'S WARNING**

The humid summer air caused my arms to stick to the leather clad chair. I writhed uncomfortably, separating my skin from the sticky surface with a resounding hiss. I cringed at the embarrassing sound and looked up hesitantly to see their reactions. Nothing. I sighed. Even negative attention would be better than being totally ignored.

As I mused on about the neglect I was being put through, Bill Ascot tried posing a joke that, quite obviously, didn't go over well with its offensive insinuations and poor verbal execution. Daniel recoiled in his chair with a chafed chuckle. I shook my head behind my mop of hair. _He brought me to this!_ I thought in incredulous disbelief. _I was never involved, much less, acknowledged at these meetings!_ I didn't even know why I was supposed to come, their conversations of expansion and surpluses never concerned me, nor did either of their presences ever appease me.

Then a looming question popped into my head, _Was I supposed to pay attention?_ My panicked brain sent my eyes flying up to inspect the situation. Bill was trying to balance his pen, to no avail, upon the crux in his lip. The question answered itself, _Nope. _I scratched the back of my ear and coyly detached my eyes from the endless flashes of cheesy grins and rumbles of uncomfortable laughter.

_What to do, what to do,_

I deliberated while tapping my chin in a rhythmic motion. After a moment's worth of contemplation I was able to infer that there was absolutely nothing to do, at least nothing amusing. _How was I to find entertainment in this dark maroon room when I was confined to this chair?_ I slumped downwards and tucked in my chin. Antique Life Savers with Ascot printed on it, steering wheels to boats; anything you could think of concerning the company was crammed into glass observing cases that lined the walls just out of my physical and visual reach.

A low grouse tore from my throat that went unnoticed, yet again.

"Yes my Great Grandfathers' would be proud to see the company today," Bill said, hands wavering towards the single large painting of the original owners hanging dead center on the wall in front of us. It was an understatement to say Bill Ascot was proud of his company.

Analytically I dissected the visual composition. It was coated in thick layers of burgundy, myrtle, chestnut and ash oil paint, creating a realistic texture and colour palette. The background of a desk and lamp were poignant, but not overwhelming. My eyes then dropped to the little golden placard that was fused to the haughty oak frame by small, almost undetectable nails. I winced and focused my eyes on the small text, _Charles Kingsleigh and Lord Ascot 1903 _it read in simple castellar font. The picture was of the two men shaking hands, one with jaw length brown hair and a charming smile, the other with grey hair and a warm expression, a warmth that _obviously_ didn't transcend through the family lineage.

I sighed hopelessly and buried my head in my hands. A headache rose out of the depths of my meticulous observation of the archaic piece of art. There was only so much enthusiasm for antique pieces left in me now, for in this room all they did was smother and suffocate me with their Victorian charm and sepia stains.

I separated my fingers and looked between the slits to the dirt under my nails, which grew increasingly more interesting as the seconds flew by. My dad, better known as Daniel, and his boss conversed about stimulus packages and bonuses. The enticement became consuming right before I finally snapped and began impatiently picking. _When Daniel said this was going to be a "family vacation" I didn't know his definition was to sit in your boss' bureau all day,_ I pondered only to feed my growing rage.

New York, the unfortunate place I came from, had nothing on England, the very place I always saw myself living, but at this rate I was never going to see any of it now that I was here.

My attention was adverted once more to a pigeon cooing its fragile melody on the opposite side of the window, the side I wished I was on. The bird and aged skyline of Downtown London beckoned for me to come out, but alas I was constrained to this office just to listen to two middle aged men gawking about the success of their business.

Daniel was of the second highest importance in all of the company, right below CEO, but still had to kiss the ground his only boss walked on.

Sceptically, in the recesses of my mind, I considered jumping from the glass, anything would have been better than being there. Maybe if I clung to the elaborate detailing of the architecture I would be able to get down safely from these twenty one stories, or...just fall.

_I'd fallen out of trees, off of bicycles, and out of chairs, none really left any lasting damage, _I deduced. But after my brief wave of optimism I succumbed to the fact that this fall may leave some "_permanent"_ scratches.

So diving down from the window was out of the question. I sighed; all I could do now was watch the bustle of life from my prison. My mind lured my eyes to wander out of the room and into the sky. _Falling would be peaceful_, I speculated as I watched the bird with its perfect violet and gray feathers dance in the wind. I could almost _feel _the air swirling around and caressing my skin. I could _hear_ the low whistling of the breeze in my ear. I could _see_ the sky above slowly growing and growing, engulfing everything in a veil of blue.

_Smack._

I jumped back bracing the arms of the recliner for dear life. Everyone's expressions were emotionless as we cognitively stared out in horror. Slowly slipping down the window was the very pigeon I had envied seconds ago. Now it's blood was spattered across the pane of quartz and its feathers were mashed into the copper scaffolding. I guess I forgot one essential factor. _What happens when I hit the ground_? This gracious bird showed me the consequences of my actions if I did so in black and white. _Death_.

Bill Ascot, the man one spot above Daniel, and great grandson of Lord Ascot, scoffed a laugh. "I swear that happens everyday here, those stupid flying rats don't know their wing from their feet."

I was overwhelmed with disgust as I watched Daniel uneasily chortle. Mocking dead animals wasn't his kind of humour, and far from mine, so why was he even entertaining this sick, perversion of humour?

My fingers bent and twitched uncontrollably, the only way to restrain them was by gripping the bottom of my chair. My intentions were to flip his pine desk over on to Bill's lap, maybe I'd break his leg, or something of that nature, and scream out the truth to that hideous man's face, "The only reason that poor thing hit your window was because the lights from your buildings disoriented it!" University degree or not Bill Ascot was the one who couldn't tell his ass from his mouth.

Then to Daniel, I'd demand a paternity test. Who would want to be blood linked to some sadist.

That tingling sensation continued to crawl from my hands to my lips, causing them to quiver and quirk, coaxing heated words to spew from them. "You ruddy bastard," I seethed under my breath, but once more my words fell upon deaf ears.

This was the final irritation that caused my thoughts to take on a whole new degree of malice. Every fibre of my being began to tremble and every thought that ran through my head told me to pounce across the table with the ferocity of a tiger and tear Bill's throat out with my bare hands. I smirked slightly as I imagined it. Then with a change in the feeling of the air my subconscious, which knew full well I would never commit the deed, let the thought and its accompanying aggression slip languidly from my mind.

"Well Kadence," Bill said, acknowledging me for the first time since I'd come in an hour and half prior, "We have been considering cutting some more jobs in our shipping rigs to replace them with people who will venture into areas like Mongolia, India, Kenya, and Romania to," he took a moment to find the right words, "mix with the people there, find out how different countries may fare with our business and eventually start business up with them, small franchises. This job in particular we're looking for level headed young adults like you," the painfully chipper fifty-something year old man explained, "And Kadence you may be sitting there and be thinking, 'How does this affect me?'"

_Damn right I am,_ I thought sourly.

"Well Kadence this business venture concerns you, because you would be the perfect type of correspondant for us. It would only be for a few weeks and your father has always told me how you wanted to travel."

My jaw dropped to the floor as shock overwhelmed me. He had to be kidding.

"So what do you say Kaddy want to work for us?" he pressed on.

I gulped back a lump of air that caught itself in front of my voice box, rendering me speechless. I didn't know whether to be gracious or fuming; especially now since I was being renamed Kaddy!

Daniel grasped my bewildered gape as he tried to ease me in to accept Ascot's offer.

_Oh so it was him who set up this deal!_ I pursed my lips and snapped my head forwards. I couldn't believe it! He was so unhappy with his job he just thought he might as well share that misery with me, his daughter.

If I said no, Bill would take it as a personal offence and demote Daniel or, something even worse. If I said yes Daniel would, possibly, get a promotion, if that's even fathomable anymore. I scowled and pinched my nose. I really just had a _spectacular_ father didn't I? This ultimatum they pushed into my hands gave me no choice.

"Well Mr. Ascot," I mumbled vexedly, staring at the table as if I was going to find the words to a well calculated response in the markings of the wood.

He tapped the desk with the tip of his gold pen to apprehend my attention, "Hon, call me Bill. Soon you'll be even calling me Uncle Bill," He burst into ruckus laughter.

With all my might I tried to tense the muscles around my lips to form a half smile, but the only thing I felt could pass my lips right now was bile. Uncle Bill? There's a slim chance of that happening. I took a deep breath in to calm my stomach and spoke, "Well, _Uncle Bill_," the term rolled off my tongue splayed, "I'm going to have to consider doing that, um, soon."

I cringed, did I really just say agree to working for him, much less use the term Uncle and his name together? All these years of complaining and bad mouthing were for nothing. I had finally succumbed to my biggest fear. Becoming _officially_ apart of the company.

As if Bill had been holding it in the whole time I spoke my acceptance, he let out a dry relieved sigh, "Well now the weight is off my shoulder. You'll start in two weeks, it will be a month or so long. You will be flown first to small regions in the Romanian parts of the Carpathian Mountains, than by foot you'll be making your way up through the Ukraine than your backpacking will end in your departure spot Siberia, Russia. So bring your snow suit," he chortled with a cheesy wink and snappy finger point like a fifties show host.

This was the moment when I wanted to wake up from this hellish dream. Was I really about to go trekking through Eastern Europe at viciously high heights that could cause possible death from a lack of oxygen to the brain or from freezing for the Ascot family company! Either way this trip was not going to be enjoyable. I hate cold, I hate the Ascot Company, and I hate Daniel.

My moment of thought seemed to too long for Bob as he _tried_ to nonchalantly lift his sleeve and check the time. Scrunching up his nose, he seemed unconvinced by what his silver Rolex watch was telling him, so he peered up at the large clock mounted on the opposite wall for absolution. "I don't mean to be rude, but I have a meeting in five minutes, so I'd better be on my way, but you're welcome to st-"

"Thanks, but no thanks," I interjected as I hastily pushed away from the lecturn. He shrugged and did the same with a little less celerity.

I violently jumped from my chair, glaring daggers at Daniel's stupid little mousy head the whole time. Bob Ascot, being as blissfully ignorant as he was, waved undauntedly despite the fact some of the blame rested on his shoulder. "See you folks later," he muttered as he straightened the already perfect pile of papers. _That anal idiot_, I thought maliciously.

With a puff of hypothetical smoke I stormed out of the room and down the hall. The four inch _"Business Shoe's"_ I was forced to wear clicked and clacked down the antiquated cherry wood floors. Daniel should get used to the sound for it would be the only noise shared between him and I. If Daniel was willing to give me up to work for Bob Ascot so leniently, who wouldn't say he made me wear these awful excuse for footwear to appease some sick old man.

"Kadence," Daniel's meek voice unintentionally prodded and burst my bubble of thought.

"No!" I cut his ramblings off before they could even commence, "I will not talk to you now, nor ever." With the grace of an elephant I thudded away from him. Albeit I was in heels I could still move faster than any dimwitted father trailing behind their estranged daughter, on account of my many years of _forced_ practice.

Daniel's rigid, sweaty hands clasped my shoulder, preventing me from any further motion. Did he not understand that when I say, _"I will not speak to you now or ever,"_ that it means _right_ now? I closed my eyes and let out one big aggravated breath from my lungs.

Daniel's voice quivered as he spoke, "Kadence please, it was all in good reason."

I spun around with the brute force of a hurricane, "Are you deaf or something? Daniel, I would rather shoot myself in the foot than speak with you." I turned sharply and started pacing away again only to pause in a moment of reflection at my spoken blunder. I faced him again and corrected myself with no limitations to my frank tone, "No let me rephrase that, I would rather shoot you in the foot."

There was a brief moment of stillness as I observed Daniel's face churning. _Most five year olds could come up with a comeback by now. God, I was his fifteen year old daughter I wasn't supposed to outsmart him. _

He pointed his finger at me with the conviction of an ant about to be squished, "You-you know, I am your Dad. You can't speak to me this way, or-or call me Daniel."

I smiled, selfishly amused. Was that the best he could come up with? Play the, '_I'm your father card_'. It didn't work for Anakin and Luke, it wasn't working for us.

"Wh-why are you smiling, it's not funny, it's true!" he stammered on to dead air for I had already made my way past him and into the elevator.

As I stepped into the surprisingly large space and regarded the buttons in front of me. Some went up, some went down, some called in for an emergency, and some closed the door. I grinned and without the slightest bit of hesitation jammed my thumb against the black button.

Abruptly the doors slid together with a resounding clash as the heavy metal collided. "Kadence, open this door right now! Kadence," Daniel screamed as he banged against the steel wall between us. Grinning I continued to press the lobby button. The elevator made a jerking noise before it commenced its descent. "No, Kadence, Kadence, please open the door, I really don't want to go down the stairs, Kadence," he pleaded pathetically.

_What was it twenty one staircases he had to go down? Karma's not the friendliest of people I presume. _

The calls of Daniel echoed down the shaft and into the elevator as beep by irritating beep I got closer and closer to the main floor. I could almost say I had butterflies in my stomach I was so excited to see his expression. A tingle shot up my spine in exuberance. What a day this'll be.

"Reaching Lobby," an electronic female voice stated as the hefty doors began to clear. Time seemed to be slowing down as I waited for it to open. One...two...three...why wasn't it moving? It may have been open fifteen inches at best.

I shook my head, "Oh screw it." I squeezed out the tiny space and out into the huge open room, but the jubilance didn't last too long, because in seconds flat I went face first into some man's gut.

"You hooligan get out where you belong," he groused pointing to the door with one fat finger.

I shot a knowing look up at the pig faced man. "Oh, oh," he stuttered uncontrollably, "S-s-sorry Miss. McGill, te-tell your father I say hello." His pasty skin flushed an ugly red as he toddled past me.

I couldn't get in trouble here. Being a McGill at this company gave you a power almost as great as being an Ascot.

I brushed my hands on my pinstripe business suit and regained my poise. He'd be coming down any time now, I had to beat him to my Mom, but still look proper.

People gave me queer looks as I kicked off my heels and ran through the lavish lobby adorned with granite floors and crystal chandeliers without any shoes. Proper was thrown out the window. "Hey Kadence!" a breathy voice shouted from behind me.

My back arched. _Crap_. With the legerity of a rusty knob I turned around to face an exhausted, pink faced Daniel. His hair was windswept and his black suit was unbuttoned. Clear tracks of sweat swept visibly from his hair line to his jaw.

"Kadence, come back here now!" he yelled after me.

It was a fight or flight situation. I just coincidently had the opportunity to chose flight while I was inside then fight when I was outside, thus giving me the perfect chance of winning.

I spun around on my heel and squished myself between briefcases and cappuccinos as I quickly got enveloped by a crowd of people. This gave me the break I needed to leave him in the dust.

When on the other side of the hoard I gripped the glass revolving door and pushed with all my might. I put so much effort into it I could feel the skin on the tips of my finger burning as the blood was pushed out of the veins. Then after a ninety degree rotation a rush of air blew over me and the affliction in my digits was alleviated. He was fighting on my turf now.

"Dad I can't believe you offered me up like that!" I howled, with a petty whimper proceeding soon after it.

My mom propped up her large sunglasses into her hair line and revealed her large doe eyes. "Like what? Are you okay hon?" she questioned gingerly as she wrapped her long arms around my neck and head.

He burst out the door with a defeated look pasted across his face. I had won. "You might as well have sold me to a brothel!" I hissed, catching the attention of some pedestrians.

"What have you done?" my Mom lamented, deplorably grimacing over at Daniel.

With the upsides of his fingers he swept the dew of sweat from his brow and attempted to explain, "It's nothing dear, she's just-"

"He sending me to Siberia Mom, he's making me work in Siberia," I cried, though these were nothing more than crocodile tears.

Her body language was affronted for a moment, but then eased up as she noticed this was the truth.

"Daniel what the hell, er," she concernedly dropped her look to my two little sisters that were clinging to my brother's leg, "Heck, do you think you're doing sending our daughter to Siberia."

My dad cradled his forehead in one hand. Was he going to defend his decision or cower like the mouse he was?

"Yeah Dad, are you going to even say anything? Why did you do that?"

"Daniel? You know this should have been a group decision," my mom chided gently only to have her pacifist suggestions overlooked in the heat of the argument.

Daniel looked at me with such a passionate hate one could think he was beholding in his eyes the very spawn of Satan. I smirked and snuggled into my mom's bosom, rubbing the satisfaction of my victory into his stupid little face.

"Oh sorry _Katharina_ that you would rather stay in your room all day watching other people living their lives then actually having your own," he snapped ferociously.

He had struck the chord, which was that name, and he knew full well of its effects on me. Hate could not even describe my utmost detest for being called _Katharina._ It's not even spelt how it's pronounced. It's so inane, and pointless, and a volume of other awful terms.

I unlatched myself from my mother and menacingly stalked up to him, "_Kadence_, you may only call me Kadence, _Daniel_," I seethed with the venom that replaced my saliva.

He pointed at me with his jaw agape, "You see Emilee, I'm her father, but she still calls me Daniel. She fakes crying, she fakes it all, she's manipulative, she's cynical, she's-"

My forehead creased, "I think you can stop acting like you're seven now."

His eyes bulged. "Why don't you like me? What don't I have or give you?" he demanded gripping my shoulders. "I've bought you puppies, I've bought you designer purses, but you want none of it! What do you want?"

I bit the inner part of my lip to prevent from a witty little smirk to form. "Hmm, well what I want from you would not be for me," I spat blatantly

"What is it?" he demanded.

I grinned and flickered the thick, dark lashes that surrounded my doll like eyes and I stared into his, "A back bone," I said softly, "For you," I added with an underlying amusement to his dismay.

His whole person froze and reddened with the acrimony that must have thickened his blood.

Finally Emilee interjected before this fight got any worse. "You know what? I don't even care what this is about anymore. We can talk about this later, but I don't think you're the rest of us really want to be late for the tour."

Suddenly both Daniel and I broke off our glare and in unison asked, "Tour of what?"

Your mind could wander to the many destinations to be toured while in England, maybe a walk around Big Ben, a ghost walk, The Whitechapel murders history walk. All three, involving much walking, seemed like lovely alternatives.

My mom's smile quivered hesitantly for a moment. Why was it that this small gesture caused my stomach to flop apprehensively?

"The Ascot Family Estate," she mumbled anxiously.

As if we hadn't already had enough of Bill Ascot. For the love of god he was the bane of all of our existences, but now we had to see his ancestry. Joy.

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**Thank you kindly for reading. I apoligize for my tangents of shear nonesense before hand, I will try to cut down on them in the future. The next chapter could come out anytime from early this morning to next week. Fare the well. **


	2. The Plan

**Here were are. Chapter Two. **

**(Personally I am having difficulties finding the right songs, but I suppose this one will work until I find a better one after long deliberation.) I was a Teenage Anarchist-Against Me**

**(I own the characters I have created and the main plot in this extension of the original and movie story. Tim Burton and Lewis Carroll own the original characters and their sub plots in my story. And of course Against Me owns I was a Teenage Anarchist.)**

**CHAPTER TWO: THE PLAN**

I couldn't even protest; it wasn't even like I had the chance to. We were packed into the car with the family and its accompanying type of tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. In there we were given clear instructions that we were only given time to grab some food while at the hotel before we would depart for our _"fun"_ filled day.

In amongst the poking and nudging from my siblings, the glares from Daniel, and the ramblings of my ignorant mother did I finally succumb to the insanity which was my family. I couldn't see how I could last the rest of the trip with them without ending up in a mental institution, so what choices did I have.

I was confronted with another ultimatum, either risk losing all grasps of my shattered and decrepit sanity and stay with them until I get shipped off to Eastern Europe, or I would put my not-so- thought out plan into play, ultimately saving me from madness. My choice was obvious to me now.

When I stepped onto the finely tiled white floors of our temporary home, I made a b-line for my room.  
"Kadence, the kitchens over here love," my mother's fluid voice wooed like a swallow. I stopped my footing in time for me to make up a legitimate excuse.

"Oh yes I know mom, I'm just going to go pack my bag with camera's, extra film and what not. You know, so we can remember this trip forever."

She beamed, satisfied with my response, as she sliced through fresh cucumber, "It nice to see you showing an interest in the family love."

Daniel rolled his eyes as he leaned his arms on the island, "It's nice to see you showing an interest for anything but yourself," he mumbled incoherently.

I scowled at him, was he that inane to think I could not hear him?

"Jackass," I cussed under my breath as I slithered into the safety of my room.

The constant beam of fluorescent light in the other rooms was blemished by the overwhelming darkness that slipped and slid across the immaculate, ivory floor. The shadows that escaped from my room were so black that even the sun itself would not dare confront them and instead took refuge in the corners of the open space.

"Hey albino, you could use some Vitamin D, why don't you turn a light on in your room," Daniel jeered.

My eyes furrowed into my head. "You can't get vitamin D from a LED bulb moron," I hissed.

A carrot fell from his befuddled mouth as he tried, with no success, to show my mother my true colours. "Emilee, you see, what daughter calls their father a moron?"

"One that has a pushover for a dad," I spat once more before shutting the door and slipping into the abyss.

The night like atmosphere was the only one I ever enjoyed in my dwelling. I found the lights, when on, to cause unnecessary headaches and sweating.

My eyes were not yet acquainted to my nebulous surroundings, so all I could do was blindly rub my hand up and down the smooth surface of my wall. _Up and down, up and down._ I repeated this motion a good seventeen times and my only finding from this endeavour was shear and utter flatness.

I sighed. This was hopeless. Finding the light switch, _hopeless_. Executing my plan, _hopeless_.

Beaten down by my negativity I saw nothing better to do than mope in my self pity. _The white padded walls of the institution will be pleasant,_ I mused whilst turning around to rest my back against the wall. "Ouch," I yelped as a protruding object in the seemingly level wall hit my spine.

_Hope! _At last I had found it! With the palm of my hand I slid the light into the _on_ position. But the rejoicing had only momentary effects once the brilliance radiating from the ceiling hit my cold skin. Discomfort washed over me as the nape of my neck began to heat up. Then the tip of my noise, and the ends of my cheek began to burn with that familiar feeling.

My sullen, little, messy room, which was usually pleasantly below fourteen degrees Celsius, warmed to what felt like a toasty twenty on account of the stupid bulb. I glared up at the source of the light and loured. Squinting my eyelids, I fought to win this staring contest. Ten maybe fifteen seconds went by till the moisture in my eyes began boil and evaporate. I let out a small aggravated grumble of anguish before firming the lids back over the shrivelled up orbs in my head.

"Fine you win for now." I rasped rubbing my eyelids.

Once the liquid glaze over my eyes reinstated itself, along with the confidence within myself, I began putting my plan into action.

I was leaving. Not permanently of course, just long enough for me to travel around on my own accord. Yes, it was unorganized. Yes, it was the works of a teenage anarchist. Yes, chances are it was going to end with some awful consequence after the police get involved. Yes, it was the perfect plan. For the next two weeks I would have a break from my family and on top of that I'd get to see all of England. It's a win-win.

I had made a friend by the name of Sam a few years back and he would surely help me get around Britain until I returned home.

I was temporarily distracted from _"The Plan"_ so as I could fan the sweat that was built up on my neck.

"God," I exclaimed angrily as I tore off my blazer and my pin stripe dress pants. Never shall I have to wear those things again. I looked down at the perfect black patent leather heels around my artfully designed mint green toe nails. It was almost a shame to take them away from this perfect picture. Gripping the four inch heel I ripped it off my foot and threw it across the room. It bounced off the bed and against the wall, causing a small dent by the side table. My heart skipped a beat. I really didn't have the money for house repair right now.

I jumped upon the bed and scrambled on my hands and knees across the white duvet. No one was to be any the wiser once I hid the debasement. I pushed the white side table in front of the indentation and stood up. I couldn't even tell that I had moved the sideboard. Once satisfied with my damage control I grinned. _No more of that, _I thought contentedly.

Melodically my mom knocked at the door, "Hon, do you want some lunch?"

I paused and digested the question for a moment. "No thanks, I'm still packing up the camera."

The response would suffice with them or at least her, as I began to pack for my _real_ trip.

"Kadence, hurry up and get out," my sisters begged on the other side of the door.

"We're not going yet if you didn't just hear," I replied lacking the sing song quality to my voice as Emilee, my mother, had.

I jumped off the bed, but the high of flying through the air dissipated once my foot jabbed into the wire bristles of a brush. "Stupid, piece of shit," I reviled at the inanimate object that seemed to possess the stinging power of a hundred wasps.

I sat back on the bed and cradled my foot. _All this pain could it be a sign from the God of Travel that my trip was going to be nothing but a bad idea,_ I shook the silly thought out of my head. _Everything was going to go swimmingly._

Once the affliction lessened I began to carefully tip toe between the gaps the mess accumulating on my floor created. I couldn't risk another brush incident, so I kept my eyes glued to my every step.

"Camera, camera, camera," I hummed as I searched in the avalanche of clutter. It wasn't like I was lying to them when I said I would bring the camera, I just left out some parts of the truth. Like how I had no intentions of staying at the manor for more than ten minutes, or with them for the rest of this vacation. After I came back Daniel could no longer say I don't get out enough, or how my life will only ever lack adventure by sitting in my room all day.

As I kicked up loose articles of clothing I ruminated further, _Maybe if I was lucky enough they'd even forget about me and I'd get to miss the trip to Siberia!_ I smiled. _One could only be so lucky._

My thought became interrupted once I noticed the shiny black rectangle on the floor. "There it is," I snatched up the device and placed it inside my giant green knapsack. I might as well take pictures, if not of my family, of the sights I see on my own.

I ticked camera off my mental list of necessities, next was clothing. I needed to pack enough stuff to get me by for at least half a month. Three t-shirts, two pairs of shorts, two maxi dresses...

_Bang, bang, bang. _"Kadence for the love of god hurry up lets go," my brother clamoured as he smacked the door.

"Holy crap what did you inhale your food!" I squabbled as I slipped one of the dresses over my shoulders and down to my breasts. The door now, more vigorously, thumped. "Shut up I'm coming!" I shouted back as I grabbed my scarlet lace bra and fourteen pairs of underwear and squished them into my bag. Pants, Toiletries, Batteries, Camera, what have I forgotten?

_Give it a once over,_ I told myself. I had almost completely scanned the room before my eyes began to pick up on a dainty blue pillow lying half off the bed. "That," I affirmed. Once the item was in my grasp I went straight to ramming it into the already over flowing hiking sack.

"Time to go!" my mom declared.

I guess I'd just have to buy whatever else I needed on the way. I stood back and looked again and saw nothing of any major importance being left behind. I gave my room _one_ last look over, just to satiate this feeling nagging me.

"Whatever, I'll just buy what I need," I assured myself while I slipped on my boots and slung the pack over my shoulders.

"Time to go Kadence," Emilee reiterated with a growing provocation in her voice.

I made an irritated huffing noise as I placed my hand on the door knob. "You'll need money to buy things, don't you?" A deep, fluid man's voice inquired knowingly.

I froze in place. The voice didn't belong to Daniel's, or my brother's, and defiantly not my sisters' or Emilee's. I looked down at my hand which was coiled around the brass knob. I jerked my extremity back with a repulsed expression. Was I about to behold the world's first talking doorknob?

I carefully let go and observed the object curiously. The answer was clear that there was not going to be any Discovery Channel documentary of the rare new breed of animal known as the door handle anytime soon. It was nothing but a textured gold sphere, no mouth, no eyes, no nose, just a knob.

Though the thought had been dismissed, I still had a daunting feeling that there was something more behind the mysterious voice.

_Drop the subject, _I commanded myself. So with this assertion I made my way to the window sill where my wallet lay.

I slipped the leather billfold into my clutch and with my thumb and index finger rubbed over the tanned flesh and all of its bumps and divots. "How could I have forgotten you old friend?" I said addressing the buckling seams and worn patches of the skin.

"Yes, how could _you_?" the voice probed again.

My head shot over my shoulder with no profit, for all I could see was an empty space.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion down at my wallet. "Are you the one speaking?" I demanded holding it up to the natural light stemming in through the pane of glass. I stared attentively at it for a response.

_You are having a staring contest with inanimate object, again! _I reminded myself. No wonder I was hearing voices, I've gone round the bend.

I shook my head with a smile and kissed the rough surface of the item.

_Tink. _The sound of a small object hitting glass reverberated throughout my room. The love affair between me and my wallet was over once I lowered my gaze to observe a blue butterfly flickering its ever so delicate wings as it got back to its legs. "A resilient fellow you are," I remarked as I turned and walked away.

_Tink. _The noise resounded through the air once more. Half way out the door I looked back at the insect that was still fluttering mindlessly. "Your self destructive ways will get you nowhere," I chided it with a soft humour. The butterfly responded by flicking its gossamer appendage five times consecutively.

"Bye," was the simple fleeting words I had for my new little companion as I passed through the door and shut it with a booming _thud._


	3. An Absence

******Chapter Three. Well I found this a very awkward chapter in the sense that it is acutally supposed to be with the forth chapter, and the only reason it got to be its own chapter was because I thought it was important to describe the characters a little more. So essentially this is like the prelude to the forth chapter. This is really just one big excuse I have for not really having thought out what song to put. The first three chapters are just to instate the main characters personality and life, but I assure you the third chapter is when Wonderland and its accompanying adventure and what not get involved.**

So the song that I found to work pretty well for this chapter was Mariella by Kate Nash.

(Disclaimer: Lewis Carrol and Tim Burton own their plots and original characters, Kate Nash owns her song, and I own the plot I have incorporated and the characters I have created.)

**CHAPTER THREE: AN ABSENCE**

Uncomfortably, in the summer heat, we were filed into the car. Arm to arm, leg to leg we sat, our sweat creating a strong adhesive between fleshes. "Kadence get _off_ me," my brother's voice cracked as he spoke.

I couldn't help but feel the need to snicker as he face turned a tomato red. "Oh someones finally hitting puberty," I jarred, patting him on the knee.

He made a snarling expression and turned the other way and began fidgeting with his cell phone. _Oh fifteen year old boys how they amuse me_, I thought as I heard him, self consciously, clear his throat. "Phlegm wasn't what made your voice crack!" I added, poking him, teasingly, in the leg.

"Kadence why don't you-" his retort was cut short by a frazzled mother.

"You two need to keep it down, your father must concentrate on the road!" she scorned us, like two misbehaving puppies.

"Well it's not our fault he can't drive," I muttered under my breath.

Her eyes lit up with a blaze of motherly passion, "What was that?"

I cracked a disjointed grin,

Then the blare of horns sounded off in all directions, pulling my mother's attention away from my remark. "Left Daniel, left!" she screamed shrilly as a little black sub compact veered in the road. The cab was just seconds off of driving head on into our car. My breath got caught in my throat, yielding me unable to breathe. Then suddenly, just before impact, our car swerved to the left, as my mom had originally instructed, narrowly missing an accident. It would be an understatement to say he was still a novice to driving on the opposite side of the road.

The constriction on my lungs relieved itself as the two cars drove away, unscathed. Despite the relief, the tension was still heated in the small space as Emilee shouted at Daniel, this clamour kept me off the hook for the time being. While listening to her scold him about the proper ways to drive a car, I had capitulated to another one of the symptoms of his driving. Nausea. On top of the fact the road was bumpy, and the air in the car was thick, it felt like I was on a never ending roller coaster doing spirals as Daniel swerved, jittered, and jolted the car any-which-way.

The simple solution to this predicament seemed to me to be as simple as open my window and gasp for oxygen like a panting dog. But this action brought little comfort and if anything, forcefully took my dignity by, hypothetical, gun point, not to mention how it worsened the vertigo. As a result of my carelessness spasms in my chest would heave my gut producing nothing but pain in my chest. At one point I was positive, whilst I had my head hung out the window, that if per chance I did vomit, that my stomach would come up too. So abominable was this sickness and the thoughts that came with it that I couldn't even bring myself to yell at Daniel to get his license revoked.

"Mommy," four year old Lilly yipped, breaking my parents' argument, "Kadence looks like she's gonna barf." Her pouty little lips jutted out as she scrunched up her face in repulse.

Shiloh imitated her twin sister's gestures and repeated her words like a defective parrot, "Yeah, she looks like she's gonna barf."

Over my shoulder I eyed them with a dangerous glare. Most people with at least one brain cell would know well enough not to tempt someone that's looking at them with such visage as I had. If it wasn't for my pasty green complexion, at the moment, or the bulging veins in my eyes, it was the expression upon my face.

After exchanging freightened glances with each other they made small gagging noises while sticking their fingers in their mouthes. I sighed; obviously, they lacked this brain cell that permitted any common knowledge to sink in. Tiredly, I rested my head back down on my hand that clutched the window ledge.

"Sweetie do good and just stick your head out the window if you think you're going to be sick," my mom said in the _truest_ poetic form. _Sometimes I just have to question if my family has blood ties with Shakespeare. _I calmed my erratic breathing and accepted it, yet another thing that was never going to sink in, _or change_; everyones blatant misuse of proper grammar.

My vexation worsened as Torrance, being the caring brother he is, added the cherry to my dismay while playing a game on his phone. Every time he got a score he would just take it upon himself to grunt, then jab me with his knee. Not to mention the inferior beeping every two seconds coming from that blasted device was far from soothing.

_Really, who would disagree with me for wanting a break from this torture?_ I couldn't even reconcile with myself why or how I had put up with this pain so long. _I must be a saint of some sort and this is my final test before I get promoted to a celestial being, like Ghandi or Buddha. _I knit my eyebrows together and reconsidered what I had just thought._Or, the more likely chance, I was god's personal joke, _I ideated. This seemed like the right answer, but the victory didn't last long before a dry retch riveted through my body.

"Eugh, did you vomit?" Torrance, revolted, asked while he did his best to move away from me in the confined space of his seat belt.

"Does it look like it," I seethed.

His nose crinkled as he glanced down at me, after a second of inspection he came up with the answer, "Seemingly not." He scooted further away, now pressed firmly against Lilly's car seat. I needed to distract myself from the nausea, but in no way was speaking with my brother one of the possibilities. So out of a process of elimination I came up with the way, _I couldn't read without throwing up, I couldn't speak without throwing up, and really I just didn't want to listen to whatever anyone else had to say. My hair? _

I turned over on my side towards the open window, ignoring everyones pressing comments about my physical state. To satisfy my disinterest, in the fashion of every eight year old girl, I began to fiddle mindlessly with a lock of my golden curls that draped one side of my face. Shall I braid it? I tried, but the nature of the spiral in my hair made it difficult, if not impossible to do so. Should I straighten it? I flattened a piece into the palm of my hand and covered it with the other, to form some sort of flat iron. After a minute of patient waiting I let go of the tress only to realize now that the curl had been disfigured into what looked like a dreadlock. I dangled the knotted piece in front of my face. _Dreadlocks seem uncomfortable, _I asserted and let the hair drop down to its spot over my shoulder.

"You okay there?" Emilee chirped.

"I _was_ okay," I hissed, leaving the response open ended. I had succeeded in capturing my attention away from my growing nausea, well, until she reminded me of my ailment.

"Well alright then," she mumbled, blissfully ignorant to my aggravation.

I glared at the back of her head once I was sure she was facing the other way. Her hair was long, wavy, and a chestnut the over powering, usually unflattering, brilliance of the sun today made her hair look even more beautiful with the illuminated golden flecks in the strands.

"Just if it were brown," I mumbled patting down my matted mop of flaxen hair. _Weren't daughters supposed to inherit their mother's good looks? My sisters obviously did!_ I leered over my shoulder and watched their perfect little faces, identical to the other in shape and colouring. Brown curly hair, pale skin, pink cheeks, round lips, brownish green eyes, perfection in child form.

I bit the corner of my lip to prevent jealous profanities to pass from my them, but this was short lived once my eyes fell back upon Emilee.

I watched her with the vigilance of a hawk before it attacked its prey. She was graceful and as delicate as a flower. In her teens she was a dancer, a gift I inherently didn't acquire, then after she lost interest in the field she turned to modelling. Then in her early twenties she settled down with a relatively wealthy business man and had three beautiful children, and one, well, mistake, me.

Her skin was a creamy olive sheath that was stretch artfully over her high cheek bones and tall, feminine physique. As the glare from the sun beamed through the windshield she winced her perfect hazel eyes, shading them with her naturally long ebony eyelashes. _Wasn't a mother supposed to envy their daughter's youthful allure?_

I made a harrumphing noise and dejectedly looked out the window into the side view mirror. Unwillingly I observed my face. My hair was this mess of volume and waves with patches of curls. My eyes were large and green save a few stray yellow speckles. When looking at my face so critically I finally realized how disproportionate it was. Almost all of my facial features were _large,_ in honesty; my lips were and so were my eyes. Then, smack dab in the middle of my face, there was this slim nose framed by unnaturally high cheek bones. _I looked like a corpse! _

My nose shrivelled up at the comparison once I realized the startling likenesses between me and a cadaver. It didn't help that my skin looked as if someone had pulled a sheet of paper over a skeleton covered in muscle and fat. I can thank Daniel's side of the family for that with his pasty complexion, the wild hair, and lifeless eyes. The only difference between him and I that didn't make me the female version of himself was that his colouring was dark, asides from his complexion.

It also seemed that my mother's tall, slender genes skipped over me leaving me to have the polar opposite. I had obscenely defined curves for such a short body, which made clothing always sit awkwardly. My eyes wanded down to my legs, self consciously, I bunched my slip over my thighs to hide their true size. Obviously I didn't have Emilee's bursting confidence either, which just agitated me further. I didn't need more reasons to be angry with myself, especially about something I couldn't change.

After an hour of wallowing in my self pity, that felt more like three, we pulled into a small gravel parking lot. Surprisingly the space was filled with cars. _What could be so fascinating about this place? _I thought sceptically. Curiosity coaxed my eyes to venture out to the lush acre of emerald blades of grass. Nestled up on a slight incline was a Victorian era house, or more mansion, constructed of a elegant slate stone. It was strangely rectangular in the front, but the architecture around windows and doorways compensated for that with the elaborate detailing. Now, having lain eyes on it, I felt a surprising little jolt of excitement. This possibly could be fun!

I bit my tongue. _Don't jinx_ _it,_ I scorned myself.

When the car came to a halt Torrance didn't even give me the chance to open the door before he crawled over me and hopped out. I watched him stare up at the massive building awedly. He resembled my mom in every way light brown hair, tanned skin, tall, slender.

He was a well known character in the halls of our schools everywhere we moved. Now, in our present home New Yok, his name, Torrance, was the only topic constant on the tongues of the students. If it wasn't for the fact he was considered good looking by the vast majority of his peers, or the fact that he was an avid member of sports teams, and if you add on the fact he had been the life of every high school party, it was because he wasn't me.

My first impression on the school was less the commendable amongst the teenage aristocracy that had formed itself. When I was the one to witness the harassment of another student my gut had told me to interject, and so I did, harmless it seemed until the aggressors acerbity turned to me. It was two six foot tall teenage boys versus a five foot tall girl, I saw my only possibility of escape from the situation was to come out swinging. As my self defense teacher had instructed me when I was seven was go for the nose then the groin. When I did so my swing wavered from its original destination, but the punch to the jaw did just as well. Then as he was nursing his bruised face I kneed his friend, causing him to double over in pain. After leaving them in that state I was thanked by the freightened victim of their attack before he scuttled away. I was left alone, with two almost-men I had just assaulted. There was only one thing I knew to do, which was the thing I could do best, _run_. Forever have I been canonized as the one who ran. With good reason no doubt.

I shook out the negative memory and stepped out of the car, stabilizing my footing on the gravel.

"Why do you have such a big bag?" Shiloh asked while inquisitively poking the overflowing sack.

I slid to the side, permitting her and her twin sister to exit the vehicle. "Well," I began with a blank expression, "When I murder the little children that wander the halls of the manor, I need to make sure I have a place to hide their bodies."

Shiloh and Lilly exchanged horrified glances before they ran away screaming after Torrance, begging for his protection.

"What did you tell them?" Emilee asked softly before she rested a large bag on the roof of the car.

I kicked the door shut with the heel of my boot and looked over the automobile to meet Emilee's muddled face. "Oh nothing," I muttered, before jaunting away from the car.  
"So you're not going to help with the bags?" Daniel asked with an unsurprised tone as he opened the door.

I continued trudging on, without giving him the decency of a backwards glance.

He called after me, "Hey, Kadence?"

This time I gave him, but an absent minded verbal response, "I'm carrying the camera," I said lifting up the enormous bag.

_No more of them in half an hour._ I breathed deeply and imagined the intangibly joyous feeling of freedom.

"How could you need a bag that large for your camera?" he demanded.

_Freedom,_ I reminded myself as I ambled further away from my parents across the dew covered grass. I could hear my name echoing behind me, but my mind was so swept up with my meditations that all I parted with them now was the curtailed image of me lumbering away in my pair of floral Dr. Martens and my long wispy dress.

Shiloh and Lilly chased Torrance around the field tumbling and rolling as they did so. "Girls don't stain your dresses," Emilee fretted, only to rush forward, leaving her bags behind for Daniel to pickup. I stopped on the fifth step of an infinite garden staircase leading up to the house.

"Why so many bags?" I queried with an honest curiousity.

Emilee knelt on her knees and lay the white fabric dress upon her hands. "Shiloh, what did I tell you?" Anxiously she rubbed at the grass stain with a concentration that overlooked any other passing inquisitions from her other children, like me.

"Mom," I croaked, to acquire much less than a sideways glance, "Mom, why have you brought so many bags?" I asked in a much louder voice now.

"Kadence can't you see that I am busy?"

"Of course, but in that sentence you could have told me why you brought so many bags!" I huffed pointing at her with one menacing finger.

With an exasperated sigh she let go of the Shiloh's slip and gingerly poked her on the nose. The small child ran off to join her siblings who were running freely in the meadow.

"Kadence do you have to treat everything like it's going to be the end of the world?"

I adverted my eyes from her knowing motherly stare, the kind that you make you reflect on your actions and realize your faults. "Never mind," I murmured.

She accepted it with a simple nod towards her shoulder. My eyebrows weighed on my eyes as this gesture did on my mind. Why was I always living in this constant state of being overlooked. It was the fuel to my fire. The flame could only be extinguished when I was away from them.

I continued up the steps with a heavy expression and into the front foyer. There I waited and waited, and waited. Where were they? I pressed my face up against the glass in the door and took notice of the happy family making their way up the stairs. There they all were joking and laughing, instead of chastising and yelling. _Was this how they were when I was not around? _I sighed and pulled myself away from the sight. _Maybe my absence will be good for them too._

I lay my back against the cool wall of the veranda out of visual and auditory capability of them. I needed to keep a positive outlook right now. I shook my head and cradled my face with my hand. "Miss?" a quiet man's voice probed.

"Yes?" I grumbled from under my barrier.

"Oh, um, the tour will start in a few moments," he informed me with a shaking tone.

I dropped my hand and strode past him through the door he held open, leaving him with a fleeting, "Thanks." Once through the entryway I was able fully acknowledge the amazement of the building with the light pine floors, to the isabel coloured walls, to the soft designs in the crown mouldings, it was beautiful. _No wonder people come here, _I exclaimed to myself.

The man had already disappeared down the long hallway and into another room, leaving me utterly alone in the huge space. A breeze swept through the halls leaving a hollow whistle resounding in my hear. But beneath that sound I could still make out the low humming of a song. I looked up and down the endless corridor and saw no one, _Where could it be coming from? _I thought, observing all the shut doors.

"How'd you already get in here?" Emilee's voice sounded from behind me.

My head shot around my shoulder and observed with a slight jealousy my exuberant family lumbering in with pasted grins.

"I flew," I susserated too softly for anyone to hear. It was a first, I didn't see the need to layer my sarcasm thick onto my phrases, or jab at my families antics intentionally. The air crept up from my lungs and out, leaving me as empty and hollow as the hall was moments ago.

"Lilly what are you doing?" Torrance roared with laughter.

My shoulders slumped as the rest of them cognitvely joined in on the joke, but not I. I stood solemnly by myself as I heard more people bustle in for the tour. The newcomers probably just thought I was a party of one.

I could feel the presence of my family creep up behind me with their cloud of exuberance that rained down on them constantly. Then a different young man dressed in an late nineteenth century butlers outfit entered into our view from one of the many doors and cut off their incessant chattering. "Greeting ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Ascot Manor, this will tour is for the museum of a-"

"I think everyone knows what it is, that's probably why they came," I stated coldly, from it not even taking some self indulging amusment.

His pale blue eyes sunk into their sockets whilst he fidgeted the brass button of his blazer.

Suddenly a long, sharp finger tapper my shoulder. I rotated my head one hundred degrees, enough to meet Emilee's pleading glare. "What are you doing?" she mouthed, trying to deter any more negative attention to our area. I smirked and snapped my neck forward again. Her shame always spurred on a reflex I'm prone to, sneering.

The Tour Guide, with a new found demeanor, seemed plainly aggravated with my mannerisms, "Well I guess not everyone is an infinite fountain of knowledge, like yourself."

I furrowed my brows. All I did was do him a favour, his words would get lost in the airways, exactly like mine did, always.

**I thank you for reading and I am positive that the fourth chapter will come out within a day or so. Leave a review if you want and have a good night, day, morning, afternoon, or whatever it is where you are. Fare the well. **


	4. The Rabbit Hole

**Huzzah, wonderland is finally involved in the story. I apoligize for its length, I just needed to get it all out instead of prolonging it anymore. If there are any errors it's because the spell check isn't working. So the songs will be Runaway by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's and when she actually falls down the hole it is Falling by Florence and the Machine. Read and review, I hope you enjoy it. **

**(Lewis Carrol and Tim Burton own their original plots and characters. The artists own their songs. I own the characters I have created and the plot I have made.)**

**CHAPTER FOUR: THE RABBIT HOLE**

He began leading us down the hallway as he went over the rules. "There are still occupants, of the original family, living in the house so we ask if you could," he shot me a knowing look, "keep your voices down."

I sneered back at him and crossed my arms. _It was great to see I was already making friends. _

He reciprocated the hateful expression and continued explaining, "Stay on my side of the velvet ropes at all times and refrain from touching the antiques. Do we all understand?" he questioned with a soft British intonation.

A chorus of "Yes's" rung out, escaping everyones' lips but mine.

He leaned in closer to me and repeated the inquisition, "Do we all _understand_?"

"Oh compltely," I responded with a feigned exuberance, before my mouth dropped back into its original frown.

The muscles around his eyes contracted turning them into little slits as he turned around and motioned towards a painting on the wall.

"This is a painting of Camilla Ascot, wife of Aldous Ascot, the man whom...," he droned on to the others patrons of the tour, but my attention was already snatched away.

The walls were cream to the untrained eye, but with further inspection showed an array of iridescent yellow flowers that were visible once activated by the sun. _Was I seeing things._I stopped my footing and looked at the, now, plain wall. Then I hopped back to behold the light floral design. Suddenly, cutting short my observation, a person bumped into me, sending a pain shooting through my spine.

"Watch where your going," a grizzly looking man snapped as passed me leading his wife and two children to the front of the group. I looked behind me to see Emilee hovering nearby, humiliation pulling at the tendons around her lips, which were firmed into a straight line. I couldn't take the chagrin look in her eyes any longer, so briskly I caught up with the tour guide, who seemed less than contented to see my face again.

He kept his eyes firmly glued to me as his hands shifted upwards, drawing peoples' attention to the ceiling. "Notice the elaborate designs carved around the ceiling? It is said they tell a story of a great battle, but not any normal one, but one in a different world completly," the Guide himself seemed to have to stifle a snicker at the thought.

People gawked and gasped when they noticed the beautiful sculptings, soon the click of tourists cameras filled the elongated space. In the crown moulding, what seemed to be just a simple vine design was actually a story of intricate little figures, no two alike, postitioned in totally unique stances. One particularly eye catching figure was a lengthy serpent like creature with a sword being thrust through its neck by a valiant knight, of sorts. I squinted my eyes and was able to see the long flowing hair that trailed behind them, _It was a female. _How strange it seemed for the time period.

I shrugged it off, not wanting to give the tour guide the satisfaction of correcting me dare say the etching was that of a man. "Come now," he said with a sweeping motion with his arms towards a double doored entrence. Two by two we all egressed into the huge rectangular room. The walls were adorned with the brightest lemon paint, and were endowed with pefect white plaster configurations up to and on the ceiling. The sweet music of the violin, harpsichord and other strings instrument rung out forming Vivaldi's composition The Four Seasons, this one in particular was the Spring movement. I looked back at the doors, almost expecting a row of dancers dressed in seventeen hundreds fashion to come waltzing out.

"Listen to the music," the Guide instructed, "and realize how the music, playing, from this era mimics architechture-"

My hand went shooting up, but it was all in vain because I had already started speaking, "Wasn't this house built in the eighteen thirties?"

Appetence probably would have made him continue on with his tour without even acknowledging my prescene, but under the circumstances of the code of conduct of his job all he could do was listen. "Yes Miss it was. Is there something you'd like to _correct_ me on?" he spat every words sharply, with a tone that could make one believe he would snap into lunacy if provoked.

I puckered my lips and ignored the air to his voice as I continued to mend his verbal fault. "Vivaldi was from the Baroque era, which ended in the late seventeen hundreds. Then if anything the house would be inspired by the Romantic Era."

With a strained smile he credited me through clenched teeth, "Why thank you for your correction. I'm not sure how I could have gone on without that very important piece of information."

I smirked smugly as we ventured through more of the mansion. He spoke of its history pertaining to its previous owners, marriages, deaths, and business escapades. While on the upstairs floor, curiously, my brother asked the man touring us, "So who is this original occupant that's still alive?"

The guide cleared his throat and spoke low as if sharing a well guarded secret, "Well her name is Alice Ascot, she was the buisness partner of her now father-in-law Aldous. She was married into the family after originally denying the proposal of Lord Ascot's son Hamish, but after a four year trip to China she reconsidered." he murmured growing uninterested as his eyes trailed off to a wall.

"Will we get to meet her?" a woman asked.

A smirk almost pinched at the side of the guide's lips as he spoke, "Well no, um, you could say time hasn't done her mind well."

Everyone in the room was befuddled, so a man continued to question his choice of words. "What do you mean?"

He inhaled and spoke languidly to prevent from an unneeded outburst, "Well she, you could say, is as mad as a hatter. Well at least she speaks of one everyday. Along with talking animals and the Jabberwocky she had slain on Frabjous Day with help of the Vorpal Sword and the White Queens army," he snorted apishly.

I knit my eyebrows together puzzled at his tone. _How does he know it's not possible? _I thought back on the sculpting of beast being slain in the mouldings, _could that be what it was about? _"Do you really think you should be mocking one of the people you? Have you any proof she hadn't slain such a beast?" I demanded to the ungrateful worker.

The crowd all rumbled with laughter, but not at who I wanted. "You and Alice would sure get along," he jarred.

I could feel hot tears forming in the duct of my eyes. "Your incredulous she's the family matriarch, a cultured woman of the time, she should be compared to women like Laura Secord or Joan of Arc for what she has done for women in the business world," I hollered, closing the space between this Guide and I. My eyes closed to slits as I was about to start ranting again, but a cold hand gripped my shoulder and spun me around.

"Kadence," Emilee shouted, holding my glare. "Stop," she said, softly, abashment tinting the flesh over her cheeks. I looked over at the shocked faces of the tourists, and the shamed ones of my family. My eyes stopped on Daniel's who showed but no emotion, then guilt rushed through me. "I need to go to the washroom," I whispered, frozen in my spot until my legs suddenly willed themselves and the rest of my body to dash down the hallway.

My face burnt with the lingering pain from that brief moment. They didn't call me back to them, with good reason, they didn't want me there, just as much as I didn't want to be there. I supressed the tears that seared my eyes and found my way back to an elegant cherry wood staircase at the furthest corner of the hallway. I looked back from where I came, briefly, to see everyone was already moving along, ducking into a room. I sighed and rapidly descended the steps, knowing that this was the time to make my escape.

I pushed the morose thoughts of second ago out and replaced them with those of the situation facing me. I couldn't exit out the front door, for all the workers cultivated there between tours, at least one of them would notice me leaving, for they all knew of my family from prior engagements Daniel and Emilee had attended. There was only one other option I knew of, which was the study. Bob had spoken of it, on one occasion or another, that when he was a child he would be sent there to work, but he would sneak out a loose window frame. This seemed perfect, but before I could even put the plan into action I had already found a discrepancy, I had not the slightest clue where the study was except that it was, obviously, on the main floor. After minutes of contemplation I realized that the only possibility was to go into every room I had yet to be in and through trial and error find the right one.

I spared no time running from door to door opening them, sometimes interupting guides speaking. After nine failed attempts I suspected I had finally found the right door. Peering my head in around the door I noticed a chair rocking by the window. Long gray curls popped ,through the ornate rungs of the back rest. I was about to leave defeated, and brave the front lobby, when I noticed a room through an arch not connected by a door to the main hallway. It was painted a robin's egg blue with white accents on the wall, the books lived in hand carved pallid book shelves and you could read on a sofa or a chair connected to a davenport. In both rooms the walls facing outside were made of solely glass. It was exactly how Bill had described it.

My choices were once more limited. My single way out now was to sneak around without the person in the chair noticing me. I channelled my inner feather as I slid in; weary of old floorboards that could creak at any moment. So step by step, breath by agonizing breath I slinked across the floor. I was only two feet away from a carpet that would numb the noises of my feet when I stepped on one of these weak boards I dreaded so immensly. The oxygen in my throat seized to pass just to cut out anymore unneeded disquiet. I was expecting whoever it was to come up and yell, get me and my family kicked out of here. Thus ruining my chances of taking my well needed trip.

To my surprise, the most delicate psalm began being sung by a cragged but still sweet aged voice, "They told me you had been to her, and mentioned me to him: she gave me a good character, but said I cannot swim. He sent the word I had not gone, (We know it to be true): If she should push the matter on, what would become of you? I gave her one, they gave him two. You gave us three or more; they all returned from him to you, though they were mind before. If I or she should chance be involved in this affair. He trusts to you to set them free, exactly as we were. My notion was that you had been, before she had this fit. An obstacle that came between Him, and ourselves, and it. Don't let him know I like him best, for this must ever be. A secret, keep from all the rest, between yourself and me." When the lyrics were finished she just hummed the tune to the simple yet equally beautiful song.

A smile couldn't help but creep upon my face. Not just because I successfully made my way onto the giant cream rug without being caught while she sung, but that the song just seemed to be able to bring that little tinge of joy to a rather meloncholy day. Yes the lyrics were a tad bit confusing especially when you had no idea who all these people were or the situation they have found themselves in, but not everything needs to make sense or have reason, I suppose.

Agilely I strode across the room. It looked exactly as I pictured it in my head. Everything had its place in crystal cabinets and on shelves with intricate driftwood book ends. There were items from all over the world and pictures of the family at the better times. I examined every photograph with the intent on finding Alice. Then there, at the very end of the room, was the biggest case of all where pictures of her resided. Hundreds upon hundreds of photos were there, the dates printed in the corners, gradually as the years progressed more pictures were in colour and the older she look. My eyes darted back to one of her in 1913. From what I could make out, for it was in black and white, she had long blond ringlets, darker coloured eyes and pale skin. In the picture in particular it looked as thought she was wearing a pale dress and holding up a massive fish. The rest of the photos showed much of the same thing, adventure, love, happiness. She was a perfect example of a strong woman, living as she pleased before this was considered acceptable. Alice blatantly paved the way for women's endeavours!

My inner feminist was screaming to the point I thought I was going to explode. _Calm down, _I told myself, albeit, my heart continued to beat out of control. I could smack myself possibly, that always calms me down in some sick twisted way. I contemplated it for a moment, but it seemed a little extreme under the circumstance, not to mention noisy, so I settled for an easy alternative.

With the long feathering nails of my index finger and thumb I pinched the soft, malleable skin on my wrist. "Ouch," I cried weakly. _Maybe a good smack across the face would have been a better option, _I ruminated as I coddled the inflamed flesh.

_Ding, dong, _a grand father clock rung out. This woke me up from my aimless ponderings to observe the time painted in roman numerals. It was exactly what I feared most. _12.30! _The tour would be ending any minute and I was still here! My hand began shaking. _So this was it, I was going to leave_. It was a lot easier to chew the thought of fleeing from my family than actually doing it. My legs refused to budge. _Come on time to go, _my brain told the rest of my body. My feet, unwillingly, advanced forward, but my knees buckled under the pressure. I began losing my balance and sought equilibrium by grasping the edge of a davenport covered in books. My weight caused the table to shift angles, novels fell, scattered onto the floor along with the contents of my bag as I tried to regain my balance.

"Hello, who's there?," the enfeebled voice asked.

"Crap," I sibilated as I pushed everything I could back into my haversack.

The creaking of the rocking chair ceased.

I gritted my teeth. No time for coordinating what goes in my bag. With my two arms I swept everything on the floor into the holdall like a snow plough. Then desperately I crawled to the mosaic of 24 separate windows. _Which one was it, which one was it? _I tried visualizing Bill Ascot telling me which glass pane it was. In my head I saw him talking in his irritatingly animated voice, "Yes, when I was younger I used to get away from doing work by slipping this loose window to the side in the study. If I remember correctly-"

"Second from the left," I croaked finishing his sentence.

I counted to the frame and attempted opening it. It seemed like this window could use some oil, too bad I didn't have any. After jiggling it three times I finally broke the seal and slid it to the side far enough for me to be able to take it out. First I forced my bag out the small space and onto the earth with ease. Now it was my turn. My head and torso slipped through effortlessly, but the space was not made for a hippy person to go through.

"Jesus Christ, what was he seven when he did this?"

I bent my neck forward and bit the top of my dress and clenched it in my teeth. I didn't just have to just mind the fact that I needed to squeeze through the space, but also make sure that my dress didn't fall down in the making, With my slip secured in my mouth, I used all my upper body strength to launch myself out of the room.

Unbeknownst to me but the alcove was directly above a hill. So from the moment I put two hands out on the dewy grass to sturdy myself I went tumbling down, along with my bag. My reaction was nothing less but to be expected; a rant of constant cussing. I did summersaults and flips down the hill, I was sure that I was go to break my neck and in my last hopes of preventing this from happening I dug my fingers feverishly into the ground, but this did nothing but wedge filth under nails. When I finally hit the base of the hummock the skirt of my dress was up my thigh and dirt and grass stained the fabric and my skin. The miniscule veins in my cheeks engorged with blood causing me to shift to a shade of red. I quickly got back to my feet and refused to let my eyes meander enough to find the faces of the people who witnessed my embarrassing fall. I ran with visual blinders on towards the woods in the distance. _Faster, faster_, I kept chanting to myself.

My boots weighed down my feet and the rubber outsoles of them were so worn down that they had no traction. It was like I was running on ice, but eventually I found that sliding was a more effective way of transportation.

I looked up, the tall gangly trees hung so close, I was almost there.

"Alice?" an almost inaudible voice queried.

The name stopped me dead in my tracks tempting my impertinent personality to search for the source of the voice. I viewed up and around me, no one was there. I let it slide. I was just imagining things, it was from all of the adrenaline; it couldn't be doing me any good. Then finally, I stepped under the canopy of trees and victory washed over me, I knew I was safe. The shadows of the forest embraced me in a sheath of darkness, cooling my heated face, but there was no time to absorb it, I had to trekk on. "Alice?" I heard the name again in a whisper as low as the wind.

All the hairs on my neck stood up. "Hello?"

My question was answered by a low warbling in the swaying trees. I sighed; it was just my mind playing tricks on me again. I continued to stride on through the woods, kicking up dirt as I went to amuse myself, then I would watch it gracefully sway back down to earth. Light from the sun manage to burst through holes in the tree tops in single rays that would illuminate the dust motes that danced and twirled as they were suspended in the air.

So it has begun, I could feel independence from the tips of my fingers, to the top my head to the bottoms of my feet. I was my own person for once. No more dressing up in stupid outfits, no more going to business meetings when I didn't even have a job, no more being overlooked! I grinned toothily to myself.

"Alice!" the voice expressed again.

My brows merged as I took another moment to stop and look. This time in the middle of the beaten path was a large rabbit in a waistcoat sitting up on his hind legs.

"What the," I blinked once, only to realize now it was gone.

I rubbed my eyes. _I must be ill or something. _I continued walking and thought over the food I'd eaten that day. Scrambled eggs, sausages, salad, nothing out of the ordinary. I scratched the top my head and wondered, _Then what did I just see? _I knew well enough that I was over thinking things and that as I got further away that my would clear of these peculiar musings.

I glanced up the path and saw an opening that lead to a garden. I sped my pace, no longer wanting to be in the shroud of shadows. "Alice, Alice, Alice," it cantillated.

I respired in and out rapidly. My pupils shifted from side to side. No one was there.

"ALICE," it called out louder than ever.

My unsteady pace turned into a full fledged run. "I'm not Alice," I yelled as I burst into the sunlit nook where flowers lay in beds made from rock. My chest heaved up and down until I began breathing steadily once more. Now it was silent. The voice had departed just as mysteriously as it came.

I placed my hand flat to my brow and looked out over the oasis. It was paved with ancient cobble stones and had bunches of roses, it seemed to me to be a relic of past times. It was quaint, but the red flowers seemed too perfect to extol until I noticed a small white bushel of the breed. Carefully I bent one of the stems, avoiding the thorns, and held the rose between my gauche little fingers. _How did you end up here? _I inquired taking notice of the lack of diversity in the garden. When it gave me no response I slipped it into the hidden pocket of my dress as a souvenir.

In the distance the sound of families exiting the manor reverberated off the trees and eventually reached where I was. This assured the speculation in the back of my had that I needed to get further away from this property. I faithfully listened to myself and patterned the beat of my heart to the tut of my boot as I proceeded up the lane. The birds sang their songs and the cicadas buzzed their calls to keep me company, but the ambient noises could only fill the hole to an extent. I could still feel that uncomfortable lurking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Every turn I made formed more insecurities, increased the amount eyes watching me, and voices calling in foreign tongues, and hands grabbing and pulling at my dress, that would, all, disappear when I turn in their direction.

My breathing became more frequent as I began having hesitations about my choice to leave, but I sung a tune to keep me going. "They told me you had been to her, and mentioned me to him: she gave me a good character, but said I cannot swim," I trilled only to be interrupted by a buzzing noise in my bag.

"Really?" I was convinced I left my cell phone in the hotel.

I dropped the bag to the soil and got down on my knees. Reaching into the bag I managed to pull out the chunk of plastic and metal being held together by duct tape. If I wanted this trip to go off without a hitch I had to do it. I kissed my prehistoric phone on the typing pad, I'd had it since fifth grade and It was coming up on our seventh anniversary.

"Fare the well dear friend," I muttered before I lunged forward and threw the cellular against the trunk of a once monstrous oak tree. I grinned expecting to see the phone smashed to smithereens at the base of the trunk, but in reality I saw nothing. Instead the faint sound of the electronic ring tone echoed through the air, as if it was slowly getting further and further away.

One of my eyebrows shot up. _Where was it? _I willed myself onto all fours and crawled to the bottom of the trunk, the very spot where my phone should be. I jerked back in shock at what I instead discovered. Deep under the roots of the tree was a large, black rabbit hole. Faintly the breedle of my phone sung on. _How could that be? I had thrown it with so much force. _Warily I extended my arm down into the hole to pull the cell phone back out to deal with it properly. When this was not enough to reach it, even after augmenting my fingers as far as they could go, I wriggled onto my belly and stretched my arm down once more. This time I tucked my upper body into the cavern, below the tree, to gain some leverage. The only thing securing me from falling was my hand that I wrapped around the strap of my bag that I hung from a protruding root. _It's as dark as night down there, I'll never be able to find it. _I straightened my spine and tried backing my way out. _Snap. _

The lower limb of the tree had given way. Desperately I tried to get myself up by pulling up my arm and straining it, to unnatural angles, to grab at the delicate layer of earth beneath my body. Everyone of my muscles screamed and trembled as I contorted my limb to grab at disintegrating ground. Then right as my finger sunk in the earth it all dissapated, causing a chain reaction of erosion to occur, forming a slide

"No, no, no," my grievances came too late. Blood rushed to my head as I slid face first down a tunnel of loam, hollering for help the whole time through. Twig after twig hit me in the face, while my shrieks got muffled by the inhalation of soot.

Like a torpedo through the barrel of a cannon I went shooting down from the chute and into a cylindrical room. While falling I was able to make out the walls that seemed to be, oddly, lined with books and knick knacks. Once I was able to ajust my sight to the velocity I was dropping I realized this was all real. In that moment this place had single handily won the award for the most bizarre thing I had ever seen, but there were bigger issues on hand, at the moment, I needed to draw my attention to, like the fact I was perpetually falling down a cavern in the middle of the forest. I gulped back the fears balled up in a yelp in my throat and looked down. There was still no sign of this ending.

_It will all end soon fool, _my brain told me, to my dismay. Unneeded memories flooded back to images of the pigeon. Grace_fully_ it flew in circles till it crashed into the window. Grace_lessly_ I'll fall until I crash into the floor, that is, if there is a floor. Then I realized that I would be _lucky _if this fall initially killed me, by an instantaneous break of the neck or possibly a heart attack on the descent. Chances were I would accidently miss hitting one of my vertebrates and instead would have to wither away at the bottom of this chaft until I died of loss of blood or from starvation.

Helplessly I continued to plummet. I had just accepted death, my life would be short and meaningless. I would probably end up being one of those faces on Unsolved Mysteries that had videos of pleading parents and a number to call if they see me. Blatantly there was no chance of anyone finding me down here. I would just rot here until a thousand years later as they excavate this land for new factories they'll come upon my skull and bones. With my hands I gripped my face than against the rushing are smacked my cheek ridding my head of the thought. I always shunned my optimism, but now it was the only thing I needed.

Out of nowhere came an antique rocking chair that spun around me whilst I descended. As confused as I was that it was even in my presence, I saw nothing better to do than try to make it work to my advantage, I just didn't fully know how yet. I shot my arms up as far as it could go, my fingers brushed across the object of my desire attempt after pitiful attempt, but I just continued to fall faster and faster. _There was no point, _I sighed, pathetically reaching for the chair once more before it flew out of sight above me. In a moment of clarity I noticed something, _That looks a lot like the rocking chair in the Ascot Family Manor._

"Family," I wheezed. I was never going to see them again. Despite all the hatred I had built up externally for them I was able to utter the words that they had probably always wanted to hear, "I really do love-"

Out of nowhere I bounced off a neatly folded bed that was suspended off a ledge. There was a momentary silence in my mind as I thought over what just happened. _A bed! What else could be expected in the bowels of a bottomless pit but a well dressed bed? _

_Maybe I hit my head and this was all just a delusion as I slipped from conciousness. The lights, the trinkets, the flying furniture, it was all caused by a chemical response in my brain as cells died . Even the falling was just some strange feeling that occured right before I would wake up from in the hospital with my family around me smiling, happy that I pulled through. Yes that was it, _I convinced myself.

This assertion flew from my head as fast as I did down the tunnel. Thoughts couldn't be held for more than a few seconds before they would just disperse into the air. Most of them were dreary and dreadful anyways, so when they escaped it would give momentary peace, but seconds later they would just reappear, snatching that composure away. The most morose of all popped into my head, but I couldn't get over the feeling of closure it gave me. _I had experienced flying_, or more falling. It was exactly how I imagined it while in Bill Ascot's office earlier, but ten times more painful. Your stomach felt like it was in your throat, your hair would be in your mouth suffocating you, and your limbs had so much pressure on them it would make you think that at any moment they would just break off.

The observation had its five seconds before it disappeared only to be replaced. Something cream came darting downwards above me. An umbrella. I had to either use it as a way to save me, or have it puncture through my body when I hit the ground. This was my last chance to be able to see my seventeenth birthday in a few days. I snatched at it gripping the handle, as my thumb searched for the button. In the knick of time I pressed the trigger opening up the parasol, which sent me flying up a few feet only to lazily float back down again. Now I had the time to figure out what this place was.

Maybe it was an underground chamber attached to the house where Alice goes to figure out the world's secrets or...my feet suddenly hit chequered tile floor. _What? _I lowered my arm and let the umbrella fall to the ground. It was a octagonal room with doors on almost every face, right in the middle was a cast iron table with a glass surface. My thought process was interupted by my, forgotten, bag that dropped down beside me causing coins to roll out. Quickly I got on down on my knees, scrambling after the money that went rolling everyway. I ignored the small change and followed a quarter that swiftly darted across the floor only to end at the foot of the table where I finally cupped it with my hand and caught it. I looked up through the clear venner to see a little glass vile in the shape of a wine bottle. I stood up and anylyzed the curious object. Around its neck was a bow with a tag attached. Mildly I raised the tab with my index finger. _Drink me _it read. I scoffed and flicked the note off my finger like bug. What sane person would drink an ominous bottle sitting in some random room?

I didn't have to think about this right now for I had found another alternative. Behind the quartz container was an artfully designed key. I looked around me and counted seven doors. At the very least one would get me out of here. With a steady grip I went to the first door, it was painted purple with a lion's tongue as its knocker. _No time for manners, _I thought as I jammed the skeleton key into the hole. Nothing happened. My heart sunk only to be uplifted when I looked at the next door.

Ten minutes had elapsed. Junction after hopeless junction none of the doors opened. The muscles in my thighs quivered at the thoughts that raced through my mind. _I was stuck down here, I would starve down here, I would go mad down here!_

I clung to the knob of the last failing door and smacked my head against it. My throat constricted, as I tried to fight back tears. _I should have just stayed with my family then I wouldn't have been in this predicament. _All I would have to do was go to Siberia and freeze, not die from starvation at the bottom of a hole.

My arteries itched with affliction. _How had I even gotten down here? _Then I remembered. I struggled with my eyelids to open them, but after a second's strife I saw the very lure that brought me down here, still in perfect condition. _Damn that cell phone, not even a hundred foot fall will break that thing. _My muscles had become so flaccid I couldn't even find the anger in myself to bring me to step on that cursed device.

Then my path of vision brought me back to the key that disappointed me to this extent. "Useless," I deplored, throwing it across the room. I lay my head down in defeat on my arm and watched it skip across the floor. As it jumped and jumped it clinked a mocking tune. Maybe I should have let the umbrella stab me, but this suicide plea was interrupted by the abrupt soundlessness. With all my might I raised my stiff head up. There the key was, by a hatchway no bigger than a cat door.

I crinkled my forehead. "You've got to be kidding me," I protested exasperatedly while shaking my head in disbelief. This was more than I could handle. Falling, hopelessness, now I was expected to fit through the door most dogs would have issues getting through. I closed my eyes and collected the charred fragments of my energy and clambered across the algid terracotta surface on my hands and knees. If this was the right door I had not the slightest clue how I'd get through. So as my final blunder, I rammed the key in and turned it ninety degrees. _Clink_.

_No, no it couldn't be._ I turned the knob and opened it. Brilliant beams of light poured into the room. _This was it, this was my way out. _I collected my belongings and pushed them through the small space with little effort. It was great that all my stuff was able to get out, but now how will I?

Rigidly I looked over my shoulder at the three legged table. I either die down here slowly or I take my chances with the anonymous liquid. I inhaled, deeply, through my nose and rose to a wobbly stance. _Here goes nothing. _There was a foreboding cloud above my head as I brought the cruet to my lips. _This could only end up badly,_ I thought as I took a swig.

_Despite the weird mix of a pleasant but equally grotesque taste it was, _I paused, _not fine. _My joints grit against eachother and swayed and bent as I found myself falling again. _How was this possible? I was on solid ground? _It took me a few moments to realize that the hole I was falling into was actually where my body used to be in my dress.

"Impossible," I exclaimed looking at my starch naked body, now, no taller than an average sized ruler.

At my new height I was able to see a dainty little box hidden beneath the leg of the table. I wrapped the hem of my dress around my new physique and schlepped the rest of it with me. Beneath an etched glass lid was a little cake. In fondant on it, it reads _Eat Me_. I was almost positive I knew what this did. So to prove my theory I lifted the lid and reached in. With my tiny Barbie like hands I broke off a piece and nibbled. Instantly I grew an extra inch. I was right!

With this knowledge upon me now I broke of a piece the size of my thumb. Well, the size of my old thumb. "That should do it," I cited to the desolate vastness.

What would take me one step in my normal size took me ten in my new one. The distance was long, but bearable considering the things I had already been through. Over my shoulder like a shawl I took my dress with me through the doorway. The alien sun scorched my spectral flesh sending a shiver shaking through my spine. _Okay time to eat this pastery. _I went through the same intense experience again, but this time in reverse. Fly, sway, bend, grit. Or at least it felt like flying as I shot from sixteen inches to five feet. I liked this size _much_ better.

I examined my body for any mutations only to realize I was a tad bit taller. I looked back at the tiny door and considered the factors. "No," I told myself. It was almost sickening my severe case of napoleon syndrome would cause me to go to that extreme to maybe grow just an inch or two.

Before I could let the thought ruminate I bent down and speedily pulled the rest of my shed clothing back on like nothing happened.

After breathing in a sigh of relief I looked out at my surroundings. "Oh my god," were the first words to pass my lips.

Topiary scultptures stood amongst, swooping trees of all shapes and sizes, mushrooms as small as a pebble to as large as a car, and wild growth that hung from plant to plant. It was looked like an old english garden that went savage with an overgrowth of greenery over a millenia of neglect. It was breath taking. Excitedly I lifted the burdensome weight of my tote onto my shoulder. _Maybe falling down that hole wasn't for no reason after all,_ I grinned and placed my foot on the first mossy stone step. "Whoa," I exclaimed. The landing I was on waddled and quaked from side to side. I straightened my arms and distributed my weight across the flagstone. My heart seized. It was floating, in the air. Cautiously I peered over the side to see no supports. _I was definitely not in England any longer. _

To prevent myself from tumbling off I had to do the same labour intensive balancing acts down the six other steps. It was my last stair before I was back on _actual_ ground again. Triumphantly I beamed and looked over the elaborately coloured landscape. I was about to take my first triumphant step on this new found land that probably no other human has ever touched, but as I did so I found my right foot caught, for the lace of my boot got wedged in under the sole of the other, but my observation came too late because before I knew it I had mouth full of verdure. A chorus of giggles erupted from all over after my embaressing fall.

My head shot up, bits of grass stuck out from my mouth. The snickering ceased. My eyes closed to slits. "Whoever you are," I searched for an intimidating comeback, "Stop!" Obviously I was unable to come up with one.

I lifted myself to an erect poise and brushed the dirt off my dress. "She's funny looking," an infantile voice babbled. Violently I spun myself around to the direction of the disturbance. The flowers rustled for a moment until they all stilled. Suspiciously I eyed the bunch, inspecting every single flower. One in particular, a scarlet mum, seemed oddly shaped with its left leaf wrapped around another smaller pink flower. I advanced forward and brought my face contiguously close to the floret.

"Hello, do you mind?" it squalled.

I jerked back and screamed my imposition, "Why are you talking?"

Its leaves curled and rested where its hips would be. "Well you would get angry too if some was rearing their ugly nose in your face."

The shock of a talking flower was far less shocking than the fact it just insulted me. "You nasty little thing," I acerbated back, "You glorified cotton swab." I smirked, finally a good rebuttal. I reered my nose up high and boldly traipsed on past the flowers.

"At least I don't look like a pig faced blond," the flower shot back.

My spine stiffened. _The tenacity of this...thing. _With my chin still held high I spoke sharply, "I've been said to look more like a _cat_!"

The flower mumbled scurrilities as I continued off on the beaten path that winded around the garden and into thick, swampy, woods. I tried as hard as I could to seem like I knew where I was going, but in truth I hadn't the slightest clue of north from south or east from west. I just followed the footings imprinted in the ground from previous people or creatures that traversed the darkened jungle trail.

Hill after hill, bend after bend I went through the bush, new enigmas were there to greet me around every corner. It came to the point I was going to burst. It all was so surreal it was hard not to go a bit berserk. It was all so vivid, so obvious! All I had known, or was ever going to learn told me all these things were impossible yet they were still standing right in front of me. The very conclusion was instantly proved as a dragon fly whipped around me, and not the dragon fly I knew back in _my_ world, but an actual dragon the size of a large fly. It blew its fiery breath equal to the amount of flame most matches give off. The little thing did circles around my face and every time I swatted at it would fly up and back down.

"Come here you stupid little thing," I beckoned cynically. When it came in reach I went to hit at it with the palm of my hand, but missed. "Ow," I regarded the wound that the tiny creature just inflicted with its tiny teeth. Anger crawled up my veins pushing me far enough to try to go at it again. Unfortunatly, it had already flown up too high for me to reach. _Was everything here so rude? _I pondered while I suckled my finger until the blood stopped flowing. _I was looking for an adventure and I sure did find one, just not in the right dimension! _All the hilarity reasoned itself out before I began marching away again.

It could have been between one or two hours since I had arrived to this place when my excitement began to dull. Every second or so I would shoot apprehensive glimpses back at where I came. The path had winded around groves and trees, making it impossible to see the oddly placed door. There was no place to go but forward. To even think of going back was foolish I wouldn't fit through the door, nor knew if it was possible to climb back up from where I came.

I looked up to the sky that was changing to hues of orange and pink. It was twilight. _How strange, I must have been hiking for much longer than I first thought. _I turned back to face where I had came but the path that was there moments ago was now suddenly engulfed by vegetation. _No place to go but forward. _

**Thanks for your reading. Chapter four will be out within a day or so. **


	5. Comfortably Uncomfortable

**Well howdy there, um I am slightly rushed, as of this moment, so I will be quick with what I want to say. The song I thought to work well for this chapter is Shine by the ever so marvelous Laura Marling. So yes, read on I hope you enjoy it. Oh also please note that the lines underlined in spots are just my pitiful attempt to show the difference between parts in the story. Sorry for the confusion if you had already read it. **

**(The respected authors own their original characters and original plots. Laura Marling owns her song. I possess my characters and plot.)**

**CHAPTER FIVE:COMFORTABLY UNCOMFORTABLE**

The wind had picked up, making it increasingly harder to keep my shelter upright. Made up of four over sized mushrooms and five large leaves it stood little chance against the elements. I slid beneath the veil of green and enclosed myself in the boxed space. My stomach sounded with a grouse, alerting me to my growing hunger. It was hard if not impossible, if you cared for your life at all, to differentiate edible from poisonous in a land, or more, world you have never been to nor heard of. Did the same rules apply here, avoid berries that are white or have milky sap. Maybe the white berries are the only ones you can eat. Who knew?

I sighed and slumped over onto my side, the dirt chafing my skin. This little thing almost brought me to tears out of frustration. Yet I knew that I had to keep my cool if I was going to cope with hiking through this land, in search of civilization. I pulled one of the massive leaves I had collected up and over my body, which was shaking violently both out of cold and affliction. Once positioned lying on the ground _comfortably_ in my _uncomfortable_surroundings, I breathed in the unfamiliar scent. Tears threatened to slip from my eyes. It was like being five again and having your first sleepover, all you want to do the whole night through is to be in your warm bed back home, knowing your family is just one room over. My lips pursed, suppressing sobs. There were no such frivolities here.

I curled my head in towards my neck and slid further beneath my makeshift sheet. I think I did this, just in hope that maybe all the sounds of howls, crunching, and haunting singing would be blocked out, but I had no such luck. If anything they were being amplified, as if getting closer and closer. My heart fluttered. _Maybe if I closed my eyes, _I thought, trying to relinquish this horrid dream, to wake up in the hotel. I firmed my eye lids, but once again the noises became louder, threatening the last bit of my patience.

"Stop," I whispered through salty water that was leaking through my eyes, blurring and blinding my vision, only to eventually fall sideways across my face, and form small puddles on the dirt beneath my face. For a brief moment, I swore the strange noises stopped upon hearing me cry, but I don't believe whomever or whatever held such a sympathy in them for me to stop all together. So a few brief instances later a shrill note of a soprano echoed through the air as the person, or thing, eventually got further and further away. "Thank you," I muttered still in a state of pitiful sorrow. My eyes momentarily opened to see the small river of tears forming below me. _I should be wary this doesn't turn into a sea. _

"Who is she? Is this _her_?" a sharp female voice queried.

There was moment of barbaric laughter. "Who knows but I wouldn't mind-"

A low masculine voice took charge, "Nale keep you sick perversions to yourself." The hoarse male voice softened but still seemed irritated, "look what you did, now she's waking." I could feel rough hands caresses the length of my cheek, sending a threatened shiver up my spine.

The shades keeping me in slumber snapped open over my dazed eyes. One black iris met mine while the other was covered with a heart shaped patch. The essential organ between my two lungs refrained from pulsing for a moment. After what felt like an eternity of still observation I frantically managed to scramble to an upright position, enabling me to back away on the scathed palms of my hand, "Who are you," I demanded only to smash my head against a toad stool side table. "Ouch," I rubbed the sore as they all leaned in closer.

"My dear we mean you no harm," the dark eyed man seemed honest, but that flick of his crooked smile demolished it all. My judgment of people had always been strong, but if I was still in the odd land I had fallen asleep in then I was critically impaired with the whiplash of possibilities. Nothing was the same here as it was where I had came from.

The three characters dressed in very pirate-esque costumes regarded me curiously like a chimpanzee at a zoo. I cocked one of my eyebrows and turned my face away from them. _Savages, that's what they had to be. _I peered through strands of hair like a frightened animal. They seemed to be sharing words quietly, but their puzzled gazes never meandered from my face. My wandering eyes were met by the electric blue ones of the skeletal female. My head instinctively deviated back away to the mauve wall. _If they were planning on using for some sacrificial ritual I had to show them I belonged in their tribe or cult. I would show them whatever they wanted until I could find a way to would they want from me?_

I thought over it for a moment. _Respect, that's what they'd want._ I angled my body away from them and tried to seem uninterested in what they were saying by distracting myself, but what was there to be distracted with in a room so empty, save the bed I was not on and the table I had bruised myself with, the floor? I should have kept my sarcasm away for I kept finding myself in this position of indecisiveness more frequently as time progressed.

Mindlessly, for five minutes or so, I sat there running the tip of my index finger up and down in between the cracks of the poorly paneled wood floor, with my gaze following closely behind creating patterns and rhythms. What fun. What I really wanted to do was intrude in on their conversation, demand why they were keeping me here, and why they were are all dressed so strangely. _What else was I to do? _I couldn't run. Especially not by the one with the eye patch, he was at least eight feet tall, he had to hunch over just to _"comfortably" _stand in the room. The other man rested his body against the only exit so that left little chance to push past him, and the woman, well she didn't strike me as the type I wanted to mess with. I analyzed her arched back stance, and curled lip, with those mangled teeth, she seemed like a person to all of a sudden whip out a Swiss Army knife from her stockings and slit someones throat. A passage I just not yet willing to part with.

"Boo!"

I screamed, jumping up to my feet as two baby blue's peered in between the gaps of the floor, the perpetrators face was painted with shades of red, blue and green. "Hey honey," he greeted lustrously, poking his fingers through the spaces and grabbing at my feet.

The tall dark haired man, who appeared to be in authority, rushed over to my aid. I expected him to come over and step on the boy's fingers, but instead he restrained me by tucking my arms into to my chest and lifting me off the ground. This left me with only the mobility of my lower limbs. I didn't understand why was I the one being repressed and not this fingered fiend? The tall man managed to keep me in this upward position, but this was a feat not without a considerable struggle as I thrashed against him at every opportunity.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Lift him, not me!" I screeched, clawing and wriggling my way out of his arms. My attempts to slip away never sufficed, but whilst executing my final defences I kicked him in the groin with the back of my ankles. He gasped, but still kept me in an iron grip only most champion fighters couldn't maintain. "Let go of me you bastard," I cursed as I came ever so slightly closer to a stand. _Well respect's out the window. _

The ghastly female with hair as black as night and skin chalky white skin cackled like the witch she was, "She's definitely the _one _Stayne." She danced past us mockingly, like she was rubbing in a joke I was not apart of.

A low grumbling noise sounded in his throat, "Ilyna go deal with Kytin, please," he asked politely, though it came out more as a command. She grinned flashing her cockeyed and missing teeth.

"Oh course my lord," she irked the phrase, poking him in the shoulder before she made her departure.

Momentarily he loosened his grip enough for me to try escape it, again, but to his surprise I chose to do something different this time. Suddenly I lowered all my weight to my feet by bringing my knees up to my collar bone. It was supposed to cause him to stagger forward if he wanted to keep me elevated, though with his superior strength this move only caused him to wobble faintly. "You sure do have some moxie there," he chortled huskily. His hot breath stuck to my ear, causing me to writhe even more.

I had almost forgotten of his friend that continued to lean against the wall in the corner observing pruriently as I struggled. He was sleazy looking with his short unkempt brown hair and beady eyes that seemed to be undressing my person with every movement I made. Albeit, I was fighting against strong arms I still managed to hold his path of vision for a moment long enough to send him a fiery glare. He couldn't beat me at this staring contest, for I stare at inanimate objects, and _always _almost win. Once his eyes could take no more he cowardly adverted his attention to the large wood door.

"Would you calm down for a moment?" this man holding me, named Stayne seemingly, asked with an absurd courtesy lingering on his tongue. It just added on to his sociopath persona.

_Murderers don't like people who cause a trouble, _I recited the phrase in my head that so many police officers had told me in my past, _they don't want to start a scene. _My pessimism poured into the still waters of my contentment and poisoned the thoughts rushing through my head. _But who would care here if some girl who had fallen down a rabbit hole, ends up being brutally dismembered by cannibals._ I shook my head. I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

I leaned forward and attempted to bite the pale flesh of my captor's hands. Stayne, took quick notice of my motives and dropped me like a rag doll to the floor. I wasn't even in biting distance yet I was so predictable. So in that one short instant I found my face brutally colliding with the gruff facet of the lumber planks. This was it, the stress had consumed me again. Choking on pathetic sobs I managed to meagerly plead, "Please if you kill me just do it fast," while placing my hands upon my head as if showing my utter and honest defeat. _I was done, do with me as he may, I screwed up._

All I had now was to wait for him to finish me off. I tightened my eyelids and waited patiently for the darkness to engulf me.

There was an uneasy creaking as he shifted his weight upon the floor. With one coarse finger he stroked above my brow, thus forth grasping my perception of sight to realize he was now lowered to my height. "Oh love, how could such a thought come to your pretty little head," he inquired with an obscurely charming intonation as he amiably continued to brush a piece of sweaty hair from my face. "Would you please trust me, we've been waiting for you for such a long time," he divulged offering me his hand.

A moment went by where all you could hear was the hearty inhaling from my exhausted soul. _What did he mean they've been waiting_ for me? _I didn't need anymore of these possible life or death choices right now._The cool breeze tickled my right cheek through the crevices whilst I contemplated, staring suspiciously at his outstretched extremity. It was covered in scars. _Were they from self defence or from attacks? _My eyes rolled back into my skull as I could feel regret pull at my innards as I slipped my clammy hands into his.

He beamed warmly. "Thank you so much, I assure you have made the right choice," he paused momentarily, "So what is your name?"

With his strong grip he gingerly brought me to my feet, but my response was less than hospitable. "I thought you said you had been waiting for me?" I saw right through this filmy guise I was smarter than this to believe I was of any importance to them.

He collected his thoughts and tried to articulate what he was thinking, "Well, it's just there was a girl long," he delayed the sentence, "er, long for you, time ago and she," He took a break and searched for the right words.

I wiped the remaining bits of hair from my mouth and spoke, "Is her name Alice?"

He pressed his tiny pale pink lips into a firm line and shared a petrified look with his partner. "Nale will you leave for a moment?"

Nale nodded, clearly displaying his nervous habit of biting his cheek when under pressure, and scuttled out of the tiny _"house"._ _What was wrong with me asking who it was?_

Stayne attentively watched him leave, waiting till he had left out of an ear shot of the room. In my mind trying to justify his intentions was still a muddled topic. So the only thing I could do was listen to his every word and wait for an indicator there. "Will you sit please?" he asked, though like to the others, it came out more as a direction instead of a choice. He fell back on the bed with a resounding thump, enticingly patting the spot next to him. With hesitance I sat down, fiddling awkwardly with my fingers.

"How do you know of her?" he pressed on.

I smiled inwardly; _maybe my experiences were normal here, _though it was hard to differentiate if this was a good idea confiding in this man or not. Yes, he had just dropped me on the floor, but he had saved me from the dangers of a foreign land, I suppose that type of gesture would come from some compassion. Who knows what other beasts could have been preying in the shadows for me. With puckered lips while I managed to stammer out, "Well wh-where _I'm _from I was temporarily running away. Um, and as I was leaving I just kept hearing the name Alice over and over again then I threw my phone," I looked up at him to find confusion pulling at the muscles over his brows.

"Phone?" the word fell of his tongue befuddled.

They didn't have phones here did they? I was surprisingly unsurprised. "Well they're these little things you can talk through to someone and," I stopped my ramblings there and looked up at his face with the same bewildered expression as before. I lowered my head, _I was not going to get anywhere talking about the hand held devices of where I'm from._ "Well," I interjected the moot point of my last words, "that's beside the what I was trying to say. What I was mumbling about was that I fell down a hole and ended up here after being called Alice by a mysterious voice." I bit my lip and tried to conjure up any other information possibly residing in my mind, "Oh Yes, and there was rabbit wearing a suit! It was the strangest thing!"

"Nivens," I thought I heard him hiss under his breath, but I was probably just hearing things. "Well thank you," he paused waiting for me to fill in the blank where my name should be.

"Kadence," I muttered self demeaningly.

His smile was benign as he explained without halts the story of Alice Kingsleigh and why they thought I was her. "She was the champion for the White Queen eons ago. Mirana the pale fiend herself convinced Alice to fight us in a duel to the death. We didn't want to engage in such affairs, but she insisted. Then when it came down to Frabjous day, we could do nothing but watch as Alice tore our dear pet Jabberwocky to shreds," grimly he held his head in his hands and stared down at the floor.

With this new information bestowed upon me it changed my view of the dear sweet, old Alice living at the Ascot Mansion. _A Jabberwocky? It sounded like it was nothing more but a small dog of some sort, how could she do such a thing. _

Hoarsely he continued to the end of the horrific story, "Once we lost she banished us here to the Outlands with our loyal followers behind us. We started this colony of the _forgotten _together, before my wife, my dear darling wife died of the Nitches," he cut off his speaking abruptly, to nurse sobs that riveted through his throat.

My lips formed a small "O". I was as stiff as a board. Usually I was the one crying never the one mothering them. "I'm, I'm so sorry Stayne," shakily I placed my hand on his back to get an instant response.

He had straightened himself out and stared intensely at me, leaving all emotions of sadness from moments ago in those moments, "I'm so sorry my dear. Just the memories are still too vivid."

I gnashed my teeth. What was I to do with a crying man? "We-well," I stammered mindlessly searching for my empathy, "I lost my-my, well not really mine, more my mother's sweet. Well actually it was a retched little thing-"

I caught his eyes that clearly were waiting to find the meaning in my words. "Little dog. We lost our dog." I spluttered out, my eyes felt like they were going to pop from their very sockets, I was so ashamed. How stupid could I be? I just compared the death of a dumb overgrown rat to a wife.

He had this exasperated look on his face for but a mere second before he patted my knee, "Thank you for your sympathy," he whimpered, with a facial expression that lead me to believe he was suppressing some other more _malignant _things to come to tongue, "Well back to the point, Kadence all of Underland has been waiting for her arrival-"

"How would they know she, or, _I_ was coming?"

Stayne seemed slightly taken aback. _Was I the first time person who actually had the guts to cut him off? _The tendons around his eyes flinched for no more than a blink before he composed himself again. "The Oraculum is this calendar that foretells major events. All of the land is buzzing because one of the pictures depicts a girl with a likeness to Alice falling down the rabbit hole."

My eye lashes flicked like the flame of a candle. _Oraculum? _"Well then why do you care that I fell down here?" I questioned softly, but with the undertones of criticality running deep in my mind.

His nearly nonexistent eyebrows fluctuated upwards. Now his tone was hitting a pique, but he still kept himself guarded. "Well it's hard not to hear of it as the birds fly over, it's all they speak of."

"The birds?"

He furrowed his brows, "Of course the birds, those things have the biggest mouths, they just don't know how to shut it. They've been gawking about how Alice is coming back, and when we asked someone in the village who practiced divination, do you know divination is?"

I nodded sharply, all I wanted him to do was hurry up and finish his story.

"Well anyway, he said that he saw in the future Alice, or you, helping us take back our crown for all of those who have been forgotten out here."

My face puckered in confusion. "Crown? Y-you had a crown? What happened to your crown?"

He patted my knee with a strained expression, "Well if you will let me escort to the banquet tonight _in your honour_, I would be pleased to tell you then."

My eyes bulged and my mouth gaped, "In my honour?"

"Yes, you shouldn't be surprised! After all you are going to be _our_ champion." His grin was lacking in size, but compensated it with endearment. Ever so gently he got to his feet, readying himself to depart. "So will you go with me?"

I fiddled sheepishly with my fingers. _This was all for me? A banquet. A day in a calendar. How could I say no? _"Yes, yes, of course I will," I spewed eagerly.

He blew out a sigh of relief, "Thank you so much Kadence, you shall not regret it." Stayne lifted my hand and with his soft lips he brushed the upside of my extremity.

Another tingle shot through my veins and through every muscle with an electric response, that tied my stomach into unpleasant knots. As he left from the room I couldn't help but feel that I would regret my choice of trusting him, but what did I know? All I knew was that I know nothing here.

"You've got'ta get that off, you look like'a prude," Dahlia divulged sparing no embarrassing detail. "This isn' t'a funeral; it's a banquet in yer honour!"

I slid the floral dress off my body with a surly scowl pinching at the corners of my lips. "Oh my apologies I just don't go to parties in my honour everyday," I scraped back meanwhile struggling to get the slip off from my feet by jumping and flailing my arms. This feisty pint sized blond mimicked my ridiculous dance. "You know you could help," I stated angrily while in the heart of the struggle. She stopped her monkey act and slipped her foot into the dress and pulled the array of colourful fabric away, forcing me to brace the bed post for balance. "Well aren't you a doll to work with!" sarcasm drenched every short snappy word I spat.

She scrunched up her face, ignoring my insults, that wouldn't have done any damage anyways, as she dumped the contents of my bag to the dirty floor. She prodded at the pile with her foot before and would lift up, what she thought to be, hopeful articles of clothing. Yet still with every outfit, she'd let out retching noises, "How the hell d'even wear this death trap?" she demanded lifting my red lace bra in the air.

Over her shoulder and out the window I could see three men walk by the door in the early orange evening. "Hey look," one laughed and pointed. They winked, whistled, and waved.

I covered my body with my hands and ambled forward snatching my delicate from her hands, "You put it on very carefully."

With the tip of her small black shoe she brushed all of my clothing and toiletries aside. She seemed bored, nothing to be to her liking. I couldn't help but think, _Sorry not everything I wore had the equivalent amount of fabric to a napkin._ My eyes flicked up to her lack of an outfit. It was a scanty little camisole that was connected to a frill that I suppose once used to be the full skirt of a petticoat.

All at once I rolled my eyes and fell back onto the bed. "Aren't you supposed to get to know someone before you go through there stuff?" I asked jadedly, hunched over on the bed.

She intrusively picked up a wispy white blouse with subtle pleating down the torso. "_Nope_, not 'ere," she mumbled half distracted by her wandering thoughts.

I sighed and lay my head down on the side of the bed. "Where is here?" I inquired.

She peered up from the pile of clothing with a surprised "o" upon her lips. "Well yer in Underland, I can't believe ye didn't know that!"

"Underland," I muttered, seeing how the world weighed on my tongue. It seemed perfect for such place, considering it was under land.

I rolled over onto my side. An amused grin teased my face as I watched her scrutinize the shirt. She did so with such intensity I expected it to suddenly combust in mere moments from her fiery glare. The pondering brought a jovial expression to my visage.

Abruptly Dahlia redirected her attention to me, "Ye should wear this dress," she lay it across her tiny body to display her choice.

My eyes and tone dulled, "That's a shirt."

Blasé she examined it, "You could'a fooled me," Then rudely she threw it at me urging me to put it on. Or, the more likely gesture, urging me to punch her in the face. My eyes blazed with an uncontrollable flame. I would have rather Stayne's pervy friend dressing me right now than her.

I flicked the shirt off my lap like a bug. "Yeah, maybe not," I proclaimed as I continued to pick up what I found to be an appropriate long dress. This wasn't just a little more appropriate, try a lot. Weren't banquets supposed to be fancy?

Mockingly I slowly slithered either leg into the hole which was my dress and wriggled it on. She groaned and trudged out of the room. What a help she was. For the brief moments she left I found this just the time to think freely. This place was weirder than I could have ever imagined. The people and animal's were bizarre, I'd watch them from through the tiny window as they danced and sung everywhere. Twirling their long billowing skirts or throwing their hat's in the air and clicking their heels. It was like I fell into a world out of the mind of Gene Kelly. This left me all with mixed feelings that were wrought in my tongue.

Stayne had made it a point to keep me inside until the party had begun. For what reason, I didn't know. Possibly I was like a shiny new car at a dealership to them, just ready to be unveiled. While I was the surprise for them, their absurd antics would surely be mine.

I positioned my hair in a bun and with the elastic on my wrist swept it up. My eyes ventured for the common reflective surface in most homes. After a minutes search I realized I had ceased to remember I was in a room with nothing more than a bed and a side table. No mirror. I pinched the cartilage of my nose. _Was this really where I belong? Or where I should be? _

I'd have to live with it for now. So instead I resorted in just giving myself a look over by crossing my eyes. Not much good that did, other that give me a mild case of vertigo. I grumbled and let my defeated eyes fall to my clothing. _You'll look like a prude. _Rung in my ears. Slowly my eyes ventured to the spot the top Dahlia had mistaken as a dress lay. _It couldn't hurt, could it?_

Wolf whistles and winks followed us as we travelled in the dimming light through the clearing of tiny dark wood houses. "Ye see I was right, everybody would love ye wearing this," she gloated running her hand on the thin ivory fabric of the _"Dress"._

"Stop it," I hissed slapping her hand away, "It's short enough as it is."

She grinned smugly.

"Kadence," Two hands grasped my shoulders and spun me around. Stayne's face was but mere inches from mine. I didn't dare breathe until he let go. At that moment I came to the deduction that everybody here was quite forward with their actions it seemed. "Let us go."

Before I could even think of producing a response I was wisped away. Fleetingly Dahlia winked.

I knew what she was implying. "No," I mouthed with an angry frown upon my brows.

She laughed with a wide open mouth that flashed her perfect set of teeth. Her impeccable set of dents were, by observation, a foreign thing amongst this town. Only Stayne, her, and I had the privilege of possibly saying their teeth didn't share the likeness to most rabbits. We parted ways with her stunning grin and let her skip away to a gaggle of girls dressed in ripped ball gowns and, of course, one turtle.

"I believe you will find this banquet to be very interesting," While he spoke he grasped my hand as well as my attention.

A familiar weird feeling churned in my stomach, once again leaving me indecisive as to what my sentiments about it. Maybe the answers to these feelings were in him. While he conveyed about the highlights of tonight and his expectations of the activities, I went straight to analyzing him. He had to be at least in his late twenties if not his early thirties. _Did he have any clue what my age was? _

Much like the rest of the people here he dressed in a curious manner. He was adorned in some metal suit of sorts, that was a faded ebony. _Was this land stuck in the the sixteenth century? _The musings didn't last long before they got disturbed by further observation of Stayne's face. His complexion was decorated with deep cavernous scars, the largest one spanning from his forehead to his chin. And why exactly did he wear a patch over his right eye? Questions arose in my mind, but common sense indicated to me to keep them to myself for the time being.

"Can you see it? Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered pointing off in the distance at trees. In amongst the thick green bush an orange flame beamed bright. It seemed so mystical the light, almost celestial, it couldn't be real. To disprove my disbelief I squinted my eyes only to realize this was not an illusion. I nodded to him and quickly lost the intangible adoration for the enigma like an old toy to a child. As my failing attempt to cover my new disinterest I got onto the balls of my feet to peer higher. As if this did anything!

"Yes, it looks very beautiful," I said before adverting my eyes.

Every time I looked away I could feel his eyes on my skin, but I didn't dare return the notion in fear of what I would find in his stare. "But it could never rival your beauty," he divulged amorously eyeing my face with this notion hidden in it.

I swung my hair in front of my visage to work as a veil. "Uh, well, thank you," I stuttered, blood vacated the tiny vessels in my cheeks causing my complexion to become even more pale. _Why did his words make me feel so sick? _

Out of no where the chanting of music in the distant began to grow louder and louder from nothing more than a murmur to an averring voice. I was so muddled I could not form the words to ask a question. We had hit the end of the dirt road, it was bush whacking from this point on, and the singing continued to sound out.

"Well come on," He urged as politely as possible he dragged me into and through the dense under brush of the huge mystical trees hunched and mangled around each other. Stayne seemed to be at ease in the environment and confidently ventured into it with me by his side. I on the other hand was having a far more difficult time. Every couple of seconds or so I would have to spit out pieces of shrubbery or some strange insect that would find its way into my mouth. "Is there really no path we can go through?" I asked after much contriving.

"Yes there is, this is just the more direct route," he grinned and forced me to scramble on through the branches, over the rocks, and into the mud.

_How stupid could this get?_ "Then why don't you put the path through here?" I suggested hopefully while ducking under a tree limb onto to get an eye full of pine needles.

Finally he dug his heels in the moist dirt and looked down exasperatedly, "Well we wouldn't want it to be too easy for _our _champion."

In most instances, my first response to such a subtle acerbity would be to question it, but my brain was stuck on the strange title I was just called for it had the ability to numb all my senses. _Champion. I am there champion. _Even in thought the words felt queer, I couldn't even imagine what it would have been like to say them. I wanted to know more. Why was I called this? What was so important about me to them? It seemed as if he was reading my mind because before I could even ask him he cut me off, "You'll just have to wait for the banquet to find out about your fate," he chided me like a nosy child.

My forehead wrinkled. "Why," I protested hanging my shoulders low.

He shook his head with a slight aggravation and uttered, "Patience my dear, you'll just need to wait till the banquet." Stayne pressed his hand against my back and pushed me forward, but this time took it upon himself to use his long arm to shield me from the deadly foliage.

The yearning for answers consumed me and I couldn't wait till this banquet would happen, yet it continued to feel like it never would as we marched silently for another kilometer. Frustration began taking over and I was about to have a hissy fit, but instead kept it to myself, _Of course every event I have been too was in the middle of the forest._Darkness had already fallen in that time we were traversing, It could have possibly been twenty minutes since we left the outskirts of his post apocalyptic town. I hadn't the faintest clue as to where this light seemed to be radiating from. It was so large and strong at such a far distance, the sun must have fallen into a hole to be radiating such brilliance. "Stayne, when perchance are we going to get there?"

He patted my back and assured me, "Be patient my dear, any moment now."

I rolled my eyes. He had said that on multiple occasions before and the light didn't seem like it was getting any closer. The word _dear_ was also riding on my nerves, just because you call me by an affectionate name doesn't mean I will feel any better each time you say it. I tugged on his arm and made him behold the bags that pulled at the delicate skin under my eyes. _He was the one who put me into such a frazzled state, he made me go to these lengths to find this banquet, he did everything! _

"There she is,", "Look at her,", "Is that her?" Voices called and queried. Abruptly I snapped my head around to see silhouettes carrying torches. The flames illuminated the black of the forest around us. I was so frozen in fear, that I couldn't take the moment to admire the dust they kicked up that danced and twinkled in the light.  
Now I held his arm close to me for protection as the people began to close in on us. "What are they doing?" I breathed, quickly forgetting our past conversation. He patted down my wild hair as I dug my nails into the chain mail arm of his armour.

Bringing his mouth close to my ear he whispered, "Exactly what we're doing, going to a party," He paused, "_Your_ party."

I puckered my lips and turned to him with my full intention to dissect his demeanor for answers. "No," he repeated.

The skin over my face contracted angrily. Was it really all that important to wait till we got there?  
"Stayne," a harsh female voice croaked. He flashed me an irritated glance and took a deep breath before he spun around to face the bony woman, but kept one vigilant step in front of me. _What was she going to do, attack me? _

The familiar dark haired woman named Ilyna from earlier today strut out from the dark forest. She was wearing a see through lace peasant blouse and long red skirt, but Stayne seemed uninterested in all she was trying to display. Quite forcefully she attempted to wedge herself between us only to be stopped by Stayne's strong arm. I selfishly watched the muscles in her throat clench up. She glared at him incredulously. _What could she not believe, someone didn't want to bed her on the spot? _The ill thought lingered in my head while she stammered for a response. "Stayne, w-what are you," she abruptly dropped her grimace to me, "and _her _doing?"

I shifted uncomfortably and hid my face behind him, for her glare was even too intense with passionate hate for me to handle. It was obvious that it was taking all her might to hold back the spitfire of insults on the tip of her tongue. All of these profanities most defiantly to be situated on me.

"We are walking to the party, seemingly," he muttered with an edgy tone.

Ever so gently he tugged my arm and we began to slowly move away, but this action wasn't going to turn Ilyna away so fast. Her long spidery fingers grasped at the small of my wrist. "So _Kadence,_" she seethed, but was interrupted by Stayne before she could continue.

"Ilyna I believe you have other places to be right now."

Her lips crawled up over her teeth and her cold, dead eyes found my face. "Oh," she exclaimed falling back to the flats of her feet. "Well so it seems. I hope you two have a really nice time," sarcasm doused the feign words.

With an arched back she stalked away following a cluster of light. "I'm so sorry about that, she just throws herself at me like that a lot."I waited for some self deprecating snicker, but nothing came. Someone had a rather large head it seemed.

So we started walking again, and I fully expected this hike to go on forever. "When will we-" Suddenly we hit a wall of vines and trees. I could feel the heat radiating from the fire kiss my skin through the greenery. His smirked and by hand led me through the cool, glassy leaves and into the open space.

My eyes swelled three sizes as I regarded the mountainous fire in front of me. It had to be at least five times my height and four times my width. People and animals danced around unphased by the close proximity to the heat source. My eyes managed to unglue themselves from the flame and to the surrounding attractions. The villagers were all dressed in peculiar costumes, some were strange beasts while others seemed like overgrown dolls with red yarn hair. The Raggedy Ann like clan stuck out to me as they clumped together by the array of unbelievable instruments.

Excitedly I unhitched my hand from Stayne's and ran over to listen more to the melodic tune. "Kadence, Kadence," Stayne called after to my deaf ears.

Forcefully I pushed my way through the crowd of what looked likes circus folk to observe the musicians. One man who seemed completely human save his second set of arms play a harp while another with cat eyes played the pan pipe. The constant clinking beat was kept on by a small chimp on the spoons. I beamed from ear to ear, content with where my ears had led me.

"Is that her, who Stayne has been talking about?" a woman with an abnormally large nose asked softly to a man next to her. In my peripherals I watched him nod and go on about something with a sneer. This weird response to my presence had happened throughout the day and I had all but gotten used to it. The song playing had cut out all other musical apparatus' except the monkey on the spoons. The crowd fell back and opened a clear path to the ginormous grizzly bear wearing a purple vest that began to pluck at the strings of what appeared to be a mandolin with his long black claws. He started off playing ever so delicately, then half way through the song he began to speed up and the other instruments joined back in.

The monkey keeping the beat sent wavering looks to the crowd, but froze on my face. It dropped the eating utensils to the ground and screeched its' awful cry, "It's her, it's her."

The band stopped to look at me and the rest of the crowd began turning their heads. "It's her, I told you it was her," voices called out.

I tried to push back, but the wall of people was far too strong. "Stayne," I wheezed as they all began smothering me with touched like insects to their prey. Fingers, paws, and feather poked and prodded at me, touching every inch of my skin. Inquisitive voices disturbed the usually quiet plains of my mind. "Stayne," I bellowed once more.

I was going to be adored to death. I had accepted death before, but never by these means. Yet seemingly in the lowest point of my fret someone slipped their arms under mine and pull me out through the people lifting me up to look down at what could have been my demise.

The people began to swarm when I was safely on the other side of the madness searching for me, the needle in the haystack. I looked up and around at my savior and grinned at the exhausted face.

"You found the needle," I chirped.

He seemed unamused, but still maintained a soft smile to his lips. "So it seems."

The air of his character remained it place in my mind, being _comfortably uncomfortable_.

**Thank you for reading! May your wanderings be pleasant.**


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